Sympathy for the Devil
by tromana
Summary: "Red John would like a word. He's annoyed at you for blemishing his good name." Jane/Lisbon. The Mentalist Big Bang 2010 fic. For ch19777.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So this is it, the beast that has distracted me from my other multiparters for the past few months. Yes, that means I will be returning to all of them now. I'm very sorry that I've neglected my other ongoing pieces in favour of writing this, but in all honesty, I didn't expect it to spiral quite as out of control as it did.

Finally, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

If you happen to pop over to Jello Forever, please take the time to have a look at the wonderful artwork that has been created to accompany this fic.

x tromana

* * *

**Title: **Sympathy for the Devil  
**Author: **tromana  
**Rating: **M  
**Characters:** Jane/Lisbon, Team + others  
**Summary: **"Red John would like a word. He's annoyed at you for blemishing his good name." Jane/Lisbon  
**Beta: **ch19777  
**Artists: **lil smiles and misspeg  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine.  
**Notes: **The Mentalist Big Bang 2010 Fic. For ch19777.

I would like to take the time to make some (uncharacteristically long) thank yous:

Firstly, to ch19777. Thanks for the prompt which started this whole crazy thing. I know it drove me insane at the time, but I'm genuinely grateful. Also for agreeing to beta it. This is my longest multiparter to date by some considerable margin and it's such a huge undertaking. Thank you for helping me out with plot points, encouraging me to finish chapters quicker than I otherwise would have and listening to me rant throughout.

anthropologist: I wouldn't have been able to complete this without your detailed chapter reviews. They've helped keep me on the straight and narrow, confirm that I have taken the plot in sensible (well, sensible-ish) directions. Thanks for helping me make some very major decisions on the way. I wouldn't have been able to do this without you.

Miss Peg: thank you so much for the art. I appreciate it so much and words cannot say just how thrilled I am that you've decided to explore _The Mentalist _as well. Thanks for being a pseudo-cheerleader and listening to me rant whenever this fic bothered me. Thanks for encouraging me to actually set up the Mentalist Big Bang and thus, giving me the chance to write this fic.

lil smiles: Snap, you should've stopped me when I said 'oh hai, what do you think about doing a Big Bang?' Okay, I joke; I've loved it really. I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes. Thanks for stepping in and helping me with doing artwork despite signing up to be an author instead. I appreciate it so, so much. Maybe next time, you'll be able to write as well? ;-)

PhoenixWytch and boutondor: Thank you both for helping me with encouraging words whenever I've needed it. This fic has completely driven me mad on occasion and though neither of you officially signed up to be a cheerleader, you've both helped me so much. Thank you!

x tromana

**Sympathy for the Devil**

"_Nobody owns life, but anyone who can pick up a frying pan owns death." - William S. Burroughs _

**Part One**

Teresa Lisbon glanced at her fingernails. Already chewed down to the quick. She sighed and placed her hands back in her lap. It was a terrible habit, one she should really try and break,but at moments like this…Well. They made trying to break stress-induced habits very trying indeed.

When had her life become so wrapped up in lies anyway? The man she loved was up on stage, bluffing his way through the act. Pretending that he actually had contact with the afterlife and was passing on messages of loved ones. The audience lapped up his every word and every so often broke out into rapturous applause. And then there was herself, stuck amongst them, knowing it was complete fallacy. Lies within lies. That Patrick Jane was fleecing this audience for all it was worth, without a care in the world.

She knew that she shouldn't be there.

It should be his wife seated in this very place and she was more than aware of that.

Apparently, he had offered his complimentary ticket to her, but she'd said no. She had stated that a business retreat was far more important than supporting her husband during his second stint on television. That she had already foisted her, their, daughter off on her good-for-nothing brother in order to escape. Lisbon was also more than aware that he suspected this supposed trip of his wife's was for more than just professional reasons. It shouldn't matter to him, not really. Especially so considering that it would make him a complete hypocrite.

She had never meant to start dating a married man, but Lisbon also knew that nobody set out to be a cheater. As the saying went, you can't help who you fall in love with. And she had a history of always falling for the wrong man. It seemed like it was almost built into her to do so, part of her DNA. Every time she considered breaking it off with Jane, he lured her right back in again. It was his charisma, his ability to get under her skin. She just couldn't say no to him, even if she wanted to.

So, she was simply trying to accept that she would always be the 'other woman' in Jane's life.

If only she could be as accepting of that as the audience was that Patrick Jane was truly a psychic.

Lisbon knew that she was one of only a handful of people who knew the truth and she wasn't quite sure what to make of it. When he had initially told her, she'd been more than a little shocked and appalled. Now that the news had had time to sink in, it still didn't feel right. He willingly fleeced people for all they were worth, feeding them nothing but falsehoods in exchange for their money. Of course he claimed that it was okay, because it gave people hope, albeit false hope. She simply saw it as him playing on people's belief systems to make a quick buck.

Usually, she was happy enough to turn a blind eye. If she just ignored it, pretended it didn't exist, she could go on thinking of Jane as the man she knew and not the charlatan she saw on stage. As it was, right at that very moment, he was exposing the very characteristics of himself that she hated and there was little she could do about it.

She wished she could stop it, but she could see herself in every subject he used. They were all victims of one sort or another. Broken homes, abusive partners, addicts. Her childhood had been littered with problems and it was this kind of weakness he preyed upon. His upbringing hadn't been all sunshine and roses either, but for some reason, he was able to disassociate himself from his 'clients' where she completely failed at doing so.

She stopped in her trail of thoughts as the male presenter brought up Red John. The serial killer had been running rings around the authorities for too many years now and Jane had been brought in to try and help out. He told their colleagues bullshit about how he had to attune into Red John's psyche, when really it was all about observation. But that was beside the point. Her problem was that the case was sensitive and any additional advertisement was risky business. Just so long as Jane toed the line and moved the discussion swiftly onwards, it'd be fine. Of course he didn't and as the rest of the audience was impressed and amazed by his involvement, she found herself shrinking back into her chair, wishing she were anywhere but in the television audience. Playing with Red John was dangerous, she understood that all too well, and Patrick Jane had just thrown the serial killer a bone. From the little she knew about the murderer, she reckoned that he just wouldn't be able to take Jane's accusations lying down. Something would inevitably happen - but what, she couldn't be quite sure. Only time would tell.

However, once this was over she was going to have serious words with Jane. Again. She had to let him know how she felt about his career. And Red John, of course.

xxx

"What did you think?"

Jane let go of Lisbon's waist and looked at her expectantly. It had been a good show, very good even. The audience had really gotten behind him and he was still on a high from it. The only thing that could make it even better would be Lisbon's opinion on it; her confirming that she actually enjoyed the performance. It was, after all, an art of sorts.

"You sat there and lied Patrick," she whispered in a hushed breath. "And once you started, you just didn't stop. How can you do that to people?"

"I thought you knew what I did for a living, I thought you understood it?"

"I do, but you're playing with vulnerable people's belief systems. How would you feel if one of your peers fleeced _me_ out of my life's savings?"

"They wouldn't be able to. You're too much of a skeptic."

"That's not my point," she snapped back darkly.

"No, your problem is you're projecting onto these 'vulnerable' people because you had a troublesome upbringing."

"Don't you dare-"

"Don't I dare what? State the obvious? Teresa, you're seeing things that aren't there. Can't you see the good I'm doing?"

"What? Bringing people false hope?"

"Closure. It brings them closure. And isn't that what you do at work, too?"

"I…"

She trailed off. Jane knew he had a point, but he also knew that Lisbon was struggling to accept it. This wasn't how he had anticipated the evening to go and he was finding himself crashing down from the emotional high - and fast. He pinched his nose. He should have known that she would overreact in such a way. It had taken her a while to trust him, to open up about her mother's death and her alcoholic father. Despite the fact that she was a very strong individual, outwardly at least, she saw herself as being weak. And that was the crux of the problem.

"I'm going home. Alone. Don't call me tonight," she snapped irritably. "I don't want to see you until tomorrow morning."

xxx

"Hello, dear. You're back early."

"So are you."

The conversation died almost as quickly as it started. Neither of them really cared about what the other had been up to. If they did dare asking, it would probably have descended into chaos. They were both so used to there being so much poison in their relationship that it made little difference. Jane knew that realistically, he should consider getting out of it - it did neither of them any good and it was a bad environment to bring their daughter up in. However, he was also keen to maintain his public image. The wife and kid made him look like a respectable family man and it was easy enough to keep Lisbon hidden in the shadows. A messy divorce and a lover would make him look shady, untrustworthy. If he had no scruples about breaking his sacred wedding vows, what else would he treat with just as little consideration?

Angela Ruskin-Jane shrugged her shoulders and Jane wished desperately that he could just get rid of her. In a way that didn't involve death, divorce or anything that would make him look bad in the public's eyes. Some way that would let him still have regular contact with his daughter and have Lisbon in his life properly. Well, provided she got over her little fit about his career, which she would eventually. Like Angela, she could be hot-headed on occasion, but unlike the woman sitting opposite him, she would calm down eventually instead of continuing to simmer with rage. The argument certainly hadn't been expected. But then again, if he wanted predictability, he would never have started dating a cop, least of all Teresa Lisbon.

"I'm going for a shower."

"Use the en-suite," Angela instructed and Jane knew not to disobey her. "Charlie's finally settled down for the night."

Jane nodded and headed upstairs. He hadn't even realized that she had picked up Charlotte from her brother's. Then again, it wasn't all that surprising either. It wasn't as if she would want the excuse of a quiet night in with her husband, was it? No, like he would have far preferred to be with Lisbon, she would have liked to be with her mystery man. The one for whom the 'business trip' had been the cover up. As boiling water streamed down his back, he idly wondered about the man's identity. It didn't make much difference to him either way. So long as he made her smile. Contrary to his wife's belief, he didn't want her to be unhappy. There was enough suffering and strife in the world, heck in their lives, without her lover adding to it.

As he was drying off in their bedroom, Angela appeared in the door frame. She had a surly expression written across her features. It was unsurprising given the fact that her date had obviously fallen through and therefore, she had been denied sex that evening.

"I know you brought her here," she muttered and Jane looked at her quizzically. How the hell did she know he'd brought Lisbon home?

"Who?" he queried, hoping he looked innocent enough.

"Don't play dumb with me!" she snarled and advanced slowly. "That cop lady. Tanya? Tessa? No, Teresa."

"Yes, she stopped by. For a coffee."

"More than just a coffee, wasn't it?"

Jane shrugged. He wasn't really in the mood for this. All he wanted to do was go to sleep. Neither of them were meant to be here. The few words they'd exchanged all evening had either been stilted or angry. There had to be some kind of way out, one that wouldn't harm them. Didn't there?

He breathed a sigh of relief as she silently disappeared from the room. It seemed as though she just wasn't in the mood to fight with him about this other woman.

Funny, though. His wife was very much a combatant when it came to threats to her blissful existence. Jane knew that she was cheating on him as well, and frankly, he didn't care. He could hardly judge her for doing something he too was doing. She was clearly staying with him for the money; his career as a psychic seemed to be becoming more lucrative by the month. And there was their daughter too. The only good to come from their sham of a marriage.

He pulled on some pajama pants, his mind still clouded with thoughts. The bedroom door creaked open and Jane saw Angela standing there, pouting prettily.

She also had a frying pan in her hand.

"I don't like being treated second best to _her_," she stated emphatically. "Especially when it was _me _you chose to marry."

Even Patrick Jane, normally so good at reading people's thought patterns, didn't expect her to lunge right at him.

**TBC…**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **So, part two.

Thank you to: Mabeline36, In The Name, AlternativeRocker, Jisbon4ever, Famous4it, PhoenixWytch, Divinia Serit, watchyouwalk, xxxBekaForEvaxxx, Ingrid, Viktorija and anthropologist for reviewing part one. Especially so to Mabeline36 and Ingrid, both of whom logged in anonymously. Things aren't great for me at the moment, so it really means a lot. Also to ch19777 for doing a wonderful beta job.

This part is dark - it's darker than anything I've written before. Just thought I should warn people about that.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Two**

Her modest townhouse was cold and empty. Lisbon shivered slightly as she placed her keys down amongst the envelopes and other junk haphazardly placed on the table. She'd somewhat expected to feel like that as she walked through the door though. It had been less than a week since she'd moved in and she hadn't had a chance to put her stamp on it yet. To make sure she could identify it as being her home rather than just the place she stashed her belongings.

That was, if she could find the time to do such a thing.

Her recent promotion to head of a unit had eaten up a lot of her free time. That too was to be expected. It was a lot of responsibility and she knew a lot of her doubters thought it had happened to her far too young. Serious crimes naturally meant serious business and therefore there were people criticizing Minelli's decision left, right and center. Lisbon was merely grateful that he had given her a chance and was determined to prove the skeptics wrong.

Work wasn't the only problem. There was her family, the ongoing feud between herself and her brother, Jane…

Jane.

What was she going to do with him?

She wasn't even sure why she was so furious with him anymore. Even before they had struck up a friendship, she had known what he did for a career. She had been aware that he played on people's belief systems in order to get paid an unholy sum of money. That people respected and revered him simply because he told them what they wanted to believe.

So why did it bother her so much this specific evening?

Normally, she could ignore it. If it wasn't happening right in front of her nose, Lisbon could simply pretend it wasn't happening. Whenever he was consulting on a case for the CBI, he used his skills in a very different way. One which she could appreciate and one which usually led to a positive outcome. While he could claim he was doing good for his clients too, Lisbon still didn't like the fact that he was essentially playing mind games with them purely for personal gain. At least when he helped them to solve a crime, he brought about closure for the relatives of the victim and helped bring another criminal to justice.

Then, there was the Red John thing. The case was at a sensitive point. Then again, as it was a case involving a serial killer, it was _always _at a sensitive point. Jane knew that but he didn't bother deflecting the question from the chat show host. He had enjoyed the praise he received for helping the cops deal with such a dangerous killer. Though he had helped them considerably with several cases, Jane had been of little use when it came to Red John. The few leads he'd opened quickly dried up. Besides, his response to the question made them, made _her_, look incompetent. Like the CBI simply couldn't cope without his assistance.

It probably didn't help that it was near the anniversary of her father's death either. Every year the sting was a little less severe, but it didn't mean it didn't hurt. Recently, Lisbon had tried to remember him in a more positive light. She had attempted to forget how he simply gave up, how he killed himself rather than choosing to be the father he should have been to his four children. Left her to bring up her brothers and grow to resent them for holding her back.

Josh had already started pressurizing her to meet up on the day. Lisbon still didn't feel as though she could do it. Regardless of how much she tried to think of the man he was before their mother's untimely death, the bitterness always managed to seep back in. Thinking about the way he died just made it all the worse. That was why, even nearly twenty years after the event, she still couldn't face her siblings on that specific day. It was why their relationship had always been fractious, even after they had all grown up and more or less matured.

She was probably just taking out her frustrations on Jane. There was probably a grain of truth in what he had said; she had been projecting her weaknesses onto his clientele. Especially so because it was the time of year when she always felt a little bit more vulnerable than usual.

Lisbon knew she should apologize. Not for being angry over the Red John debacle - she was still going to have to deal with that - but for being oversensitive. Perhaps she should even build up the courage to explain to him exactly how she was feeling at the moment? While he knew the basics, he didn't know the details of her relationship with her father. The continual beatings, how she had become a replacement mother figure for the boys. Nor did he know what it was like to discover your Dad hanging lifelessly from the staircase, head bulging from a buildup of blood. Of course, he probably had worked some of it out, he was _Jane_, but there was a difference between that and actually talking.

If she loved him as much as she thought he did love her, regardless of the fact that he already had a wife, she really ought to learn to trust him too. To actually talk about her problems with him rather than bottling it all up.

She grabbed her keys, slipped on her jacket and headed to the door.

xxx

Jane ducked.

The frying pan missed his head by mere millimeters and he didn't even have the chance to catch his breath. The woman had a steely glint in her eye and just kept coming at him, determined to take his head off with the kitchen implement. He swiftly jumped onto and over the king-size bed, narrowly avoiding being hit.

Bounding downstairs, Jane immediately headed towards the kitchen and thus, the back door. If he managed to get outside, then he could hope his wife would actually give up and go home. Then, he'd have to find somewhere to stay. Possibly Lisbon's, if she had calmed down enough after her explosion earlier that evening. After that point?

Well, it seemed that a divorce was certainly on the cards. It was probably for the best; it was better that than being killed, after all. To think he was contemplating ways to try and avoid it earlier as well. The media reaction wouldn't be pretty, but compared to what he was dealing with right at that moment, it would be a piece of cake.

But thinking about the aftermath was for later. Right now, he had to get out of this mess unscathed.

Jane headed straight for the door, curled his fingers around the handle and roughly pulled it down. It wouldn't budge. In frustration, he repeated the action to no avail. Clearly, it was locked. Angela Ruskin-Jane had apparently anticipated his actions in advance, obviously having picked up a thing or two about the workings of the human mind from her husband.

He turned to see she had finally caught up. In her right hand, still, was the frying pan. An unusual choice of weapon, but she couldn't do anything normally. In the other, she rattled the keys triumphantly, proud to have second-guessed the master of manipulation.

Tentatively, he backed away from her, cursing his decision as the granite counter dug into his spine. Somehow, he had rather foolishly managed to get himself cornered. His hand shot back and**,** flailing slightly, Jane tried to grab hold of something, anything to defend himself. When his fingers came into contact with a carving knife, he breathed a sigh of relief. At least now they were more evenly matched when it came to weaponry and he could try and defend himself from her assault.

Regardless, he didn't want to kill her, just to hurt her and give himself enough time to get him and Charlotte out of this mess.

"Daddy?"

He hadn't expected to hear his little girl's voice and clearly, neither had Angela. Unfortunately, Jane had taken that moment to strike forward and missed his intended target - his wife's hip - and instead struck his daughter directly in the chest with full force. Barely milliseconds later, Angela swung the frying pan backwards and caught her across the head. The little girl stumbled backwards slightly and as if in slow motion, her knees crumpled and she collapsed to the ground in a bloody heap. Almost in time with Charlotte's fall, the knife fell out of Jane's hand and clattered against the tiled floor.

Then, everything fell silent for half a second.

Jane watched, eagle-eyed as his daughter's breathing slowed to a standstill, unable to move from his position by the counter. He didn't even think to call for the emergency services, but then again, neither did Angela. His wife moved suddenly and she fussed around the girl, seemingly fighting in vain against the inevitable, trying desperately to keep her breathing and her heart beating. Eventually, she left their daughter's body alone, giving up.

Slowly, she stood and rounded on Jane.

"You killed her," she whispered, before continuing louder. "You fucking bastard, you killed the only person who mattered to me."

"It wasn't me, it was…"

"You stabbed her."

"And you slammed a fucking frying pan in her face."

Angela's eyes were drawn to the frying pan and she swiftly picked it back up. Her daughter's demise seemed to have given her additional resolve; she wanted to finish off her husband once and for all. In a blind rage, she continued swinging the kitchen implement and Jane, somehow, managed to avoid each and every potential blow.

They'd had arguments before, but this just blew every other one out of the water. It was completely ludicrous, over the top and already had cost the lives of innocents.

If he had time to think about it, Jane would have simply laughed at their stupidity. Instead of agreeing to split up relatively amicably, they were actually trying to kill each other. Over extra-marital affairs. A subject neither of which could be judgmental about without being a hypocrite. Not that Angela seemed to see things that way. The realization that Lisbon was more than just a friend and work colleague to him had her in a blind rage.

Her ridiculous weapon narrowly avoided hitting his head, but collided with his left shoulder.

As his eyes watered in pain, he screwed them tightly shut and lunged forwards once more. Once, twice, three times he slashed with the knife. Each time, he expected her to retaliate and for himself to lose consciousness and yet, the blow never came.

When he opened his eyes again, Angela was laying beside her daughter.

xxx

He watched as the latex gloves melted over the twigs.

The air surrounding him was rancid and unsurprisingly so. Jane had had to destroy the pajamas he'd been wearing, the weapons, anything that was likely to incriminate him for murder. That was why he was at this quiet woodland, destroying objects in a controlled bonfire. It was a little risky, a bit foolhardy, but he knew what he was doing. It was the kind of thing his father had him do time and time again as a kid. Jane shuddered. His old dad may have been a deplorable citizen, but as far as he knew, he had never gone as far as murder. If he had, he didn't want to know either.

But _he_ had. In self-defense, admittedly, though he doubted anyone would believe that. How could someone kill an innocent child and it still be classified as trying to protect oneself? That was why he had decided upon covering his tracks. That was why he was out in the middle of nowhere, watching a few of his belongings become nothing but ash. As soon as he was certain the evidence had been damaged beyond repair, he would douse the fire and head back home.

Considering what had just happened, his mind was surprisingly clear. He'd immediately known what he needed to do to get off the hook. It was blindingly obvious. Red John, being a vain figure, would probably have taken offense to what he'd said on the chat show. It wasn't entirely out of the question that he would seek revenge. What better way to prove a point than to kill the loved ones of a respectable public figure? That would utterly destroy most people.

So, after he'd realized just what he had done, he'd taken out a pair of kitchen gloves and daubed the smiley face on the appropriate wall in the master bedroom. As he'd dipped his fingers into Angela's blood, he'd gagged. He'd cringed as he'd butchered their bodies, making sure that both his deceased wife and Charlotte had the appropriate cuttings decorating their bodies. Theoretically, the cover up was meant to be the easy part and knowing what to do was. Jane had studied the Red John case files with Lisbon time and time again. Had multiple brainstorming sessions with her and the rest of her team. He knew the case back to front, inside out. It was relatively easy for him to stage the crime scene, having even seen a couple; he knew exactly how a Red John murder played out. The problem had been controlling his emotions, controlling his nerves while doing so.

And trying to keep Lisbon at the back of his mind.

How she'd react if she would ever discovered that he was responsible for murder was unthinkable. Lisbon was a cop and proud of it. Nothing made her happier than bringing a murderer to justice. To find out that the man she loved had committed such a serious crime would be devastating to her.

That was another reason why he'd had to make sure he covered it up.

He poured a bucket of water over the dying embers. Jane remained still as the smoke and fire slowly died out. Only when he was certain that it had been completely extinguished, did he leave.

Now he had to go and face the music, as it were.

He never noticed the face in the shadows, who had been watching him the entire time.

**TBC…**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** I haven't been able to write lately, I'm hoping I'll have the right mindset this time next week - then I'll be able to update something that isn't Sympathy. Sorry about this.

Thank you to: Viktorija, Jisbon4ever, AlternativeRocker, Lizzybeth93, watchyouwalk, In The Name, xxxBekaForEvaxxx, Divinia Serit, 24Mentalistlover and Famous4it for reviewing part two and ch19777 for betaing.

Now for a ridiculously early night. Migraines are evil.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Three**

"Patrick?"

Lisbon listened eagerly for a response, but none came. The lounge light was on and she'd expected somebody to be in when she unlocked the front door to the Jane residence. Therefore, the stubborn silence surprised her somewhat. Tentatively, she padded through the hallway, taking a route to the master bedroom which she was more familiar with than she probably should have been.

"Patrick? Angela?"

Silently, she hoped the latter didn't answer. If she were home, the woman would immediately question Lisbon's presence in her family home. It didn't matter that Jane himself had given her a spare key, the woman would probably still see her as a threat. She just wouldn't be able to accept the idea that Lisbon was merely friends with her husband. Technically, Angela had been entirely correct not to believe the lies they had spouted, but Lisbon believed, or rather, hoped that she remained oblivious to their infidelity.

She wandered throughout the house, checking each room one by one. When she spotted a small puddle of a reddish substance, she frowned. It could have been blood, but equally, Charlotte could have been painting in the kitchen earlier and nobody had gotten around to clearing it up. Lisbon didn't want to jump to conclusions, not yet anyway. Still, there was something eerie about the silence, something worrying about the odd object knocked out of place. Like the knife, innocuously placed on the coffee table in the lounge. Eventually, she headed upstairs. First stop, Charlotte's room. Empty. Finally, she reached the master bedroom, having intentionally left it until last. If the family weren't in there, then they had gone out, albeit ridiculously late, especially considering Charlotte was still relatively young. Lisbon knocked lightly on the door, to no avail. She tried again, a little louder. Taking a deep breath, she eventually pushed open the door to the bedroom. When she saw the smiley face leering back down at her, Lisbon felt the bile rising in her throat. Though Angela was married to the man she loved, she didn't wish her any harm. She certainly didn't want her to be murdered by a psycho like Red John.

Tearing her eyes away from the malevolent face, Lisbon finally glanced down.

"Oh no… no, no, no. Not Charlotte too…"

Swiftly, she slammed the door shut, refusing to look at the dead bodies of her lover's family any longer. Automatically she reached for her cell phone to call the murders in. The moment that was done, she would call Jane. He needed to know. She needed to inform him as a relative of the victims. The case was going to be hers, she had to keep her head straight. She had to remain impartial the best she could.

It was a _Red John _case.

Jane hadn't just made the police look incompetent on television. He had actively taunted the murderer. Described him as some sort of inhumane demon who was incapable of any human emotion. Somebody who slaughtered for fun. It seemed obvious that Jane had bruised Red John's pride and therefore, he had decided to take revenge in the only way he knew how.

She heard the door click open and rushed to greet the caller. Part of her was relieved when she saw Jane standing in the threshold, the other half, apprehensive. Just how did you tell somebody you felt so deeply about that their entire family had died? Had been viciously murdered by a serial killer? It was one thing telling a virtual stranger and offering them sympathy but another entirely when you knew them and knew them well.

He didn't speak but merely cocked his head to one side, questioning her presence in his house. Lisbon went to explain, but the words died on her lips. The reason she had come over, to apologize for a spat, seemed so inconsequential now that she knew the house was a crime scene.

But as far as she was concerned, Jane didn't know. Yet.

As he went to walk past her, she caught his arm with her hand and tugged on it gently. She couldn't let him stride upstairs, as if nothing was wrong. Somehow, she had to try and warn him, to prepare him for the sorry sight upstairs.

"Come and sit down."

"What's going on, Teresa?"

"It's…"

"Go sit in the lounge," he instructed and freed his arm from her death grip. "I need to get my cell phone from my bedroom. I'll be down in a minute."

"You don't want to go up there," she stated as she slipped her own phone back in her pocket. "Jane, really."

"Jane?"

When she didn't answer, he pushed past her and took the steps two at a time. Looking down at the bodies of his wife and child, he swallowed and pushed aside his feelings. He was meant to be the grieving widower, shell-shocked because his family's lives had been cruelly snatched away. As far as Lisbon was concerned, he was perfectly innocent and he had to make sure she believed that entirely. Jane flinched as her fingers gently grazed his left shoulder.

"I'm sorry."

xxx

"It's a Red John."

Rigsby nodded briefly as the words sunk and Cho remained impassive. They both knew that this was quite possibly the worst timing for Red John to strike again. Lisbon had only just become head of the unit and they were preparing to receive a new rookie agent. The stress of a Red John case was just something they didn't need on top of that. Not that there was ever an appropriate time for murder; it was just that this moment was more inconvenient than usual.

It didn't help that the victims were the family of the CBI's most famous consultant either. Neither Cho nor Rigsby knew him that well, but they knew him well enough for it to feel like a personal affront. Red John had struck someone close to them, even if Jane didn't work every case, only worked with them on rare occasions.

That was, if it was really a Red John case at all.

Cho walked around the house, noticing all the little details that Lisbon had before him. The blood, the knife, the vase teetering on the edge of a shelf, threatening to fall at any given moment. Normally, Red John didn't give his victims a chance to fight back, a chance to escape. He crept up behind them, silenced them and then took his sweet time over actually killing them. It was the fear that seemed to drive him, the fear of death, the power he held over his victims. Letting them give him a run around just didn't come into it.

Something felt a little… off about it.

Maybe it was because it was not as finely planned as usual?

Jane's television interview had been broadcasted only a few hours ago. Perhaps Red John had committed the murders recklessly, wanting to strike while the fire was still hot? To seek revenge at the very moment that Jane had blemished his good name on television?

If that were the case, then maybe he would have made a mistake? Maybe this could give them the lucky break that they so desperately craved? That was something that they could all hope for. Red John had already killed several innocent women and the thought of him adding to that list was horrifying. There was a reason that he was California's most wanted. In Cho's opinion, it was also a justification for the death penalty. Men like Red John simply didn't deserve the right to live when they had such a cavalier attitude to life and death themselves.

However, if it wasn't Red John acting recklessly…

He glanced over at Lisbon, who was carefully sampling the blood spot on the kitchen floor. She loved Jane, that much was obvious. It was meant to be on the hush, meant to be something that very few people knew about. However, it also seemed to be one of those things that everyone knew about regardless of whether or not they were meant to. The only people who seemed to truly believe that their illicit affair was still a secret were Jane and Lisbon themselves.

She knew how to kill. Cho had spent many hours down the shooting range, firing round after round at innocent paper targets. He had watched her fire with a practiced ease, rarely missing a shot. There was a difference between shooting somebody and stabbing them to death though.

Could Lisbon really be driven to such jealousy that she would have been willing to kill Angela Ruskin-Jane? Was poor Charlotte just an innocent bystander, who had gotten caught in a vicious face-off between two women?

Or was he just jumping to conclusions, looking for an easy answer instead of thinking about the elusive Red John?

"Cho?"

He was jolted from his reverie as Lisbon handed him an evidence bag holding a knife to box up. As she stared at him with piercing eyes, he swallowed deeply. It seemed that she had picked up a hint or two from her not-so-secret lover about how to make people feel uncomfortable with a single gaze.

"What's wrong?"

"This doesn't feel right."

"I know."

"There are… other people who might have wanted to kill the Jane family. Not just Red John."

Lisbon's brow furrowed as she listened to her second in command. Cho had hoped that she would get the hint, realize that he was insinuating that she could possibly be responsible for the murders as well.

"Spit it out, Cho."

"I know about you and Jane."

"Oh."

"I'm not responsible, if that's what you're thinking."

"An alibi?"

"I…," she started, before taking a deep breath. "I watched Jane on the chat show. We argued, I headed home. I stopped for gas on the way back. I only got here about an hour ago."

"Well… good."

"Now, instead of accusing me of murder, how about we find out who actually did this, hmm?"

"Yes, Boss. Sorry."

Lisbon nodded and Cho felt relieved. They would have to check out Lisbon's alibi to confirm that she hadn't been lying, but he trusted her word.

Still, if it wasn't Lisbon and the Red John aspect felt wrong, what the hell could have happened to Jane's family?

xxx

"I'm sorry that we have to do this."

Jane shrugged, lost for words for once. After everything that had happened, he knew this was what to expect. That Lisbon, or some other nameless, faceless cop, would need to question him, to ask him what he had been up to when the murders had occurred and why anyone would want to kill his family. He was also aware that he was going to bend the truth beyond belief, simply because he hadn't the guts to face up to what he'd actually done. Also because he didn't want to hurt her and shatter the fragile relationship they had built. Blaming it on Red John had simply seemed too easy.

It didn't help that they had argued hours earlier and that now, he was about to deceive her completely. He'd have liked more time to prepare for this, to put on the show. To know exactly what he was going to say and do in order to keep his story straight. Jane had had time to think at the bonfire and again, when he'd stopped to change out of the smoke-clogged clothes. But then, he'd wasted time thinking about what he'd actually done, what it meant for the rest of his life. Started coming to terms with the fact that he was a murderer. That he was as bad as the people he helped the CBI to catch.

He certainly didn't intend to give up the CBI work. Helping them out would be like a salve for his guilty conscience. It wouldn't take back what he had done, but it would at least stop him from feeling as though he was a complete bastard. Not that that feeling would disappear for quite some time and justifiably so. Jane was more than aware that he had committed a heinous act and tried to pin the blame on somebody who, for once, was innocent. But those feelings would die down and he could only hope that as far as the cops were concerned, this was going to be one of those cases that never got solved.

"No, I understand."

"It's just…"

"You have to ask while the event is still clear in my mind."

"Precisely."

They fell into an uneasy silence. The tape recorder was still rolling, but that didn't mean either Jane or Lisbon felt like talking. Cho had offered to help Lisbon with the questioning, but she was still feeling irritated at the fact that he had effectively accused her of murder. Besides, this was something she wanted to do on her own. She knew Jane, she understood him. If anybody else had been present, he would probably have been more inclined to play mind games and mess them around rather than giving them a straight answer. Jane was also aware of this, but wished he weren't. It made what he was about to do feel even more sour in his stomach.

"Well?"

"Where were you tonight, between the hours of eleven p.m. and one a.m.?"

Quickly, Jane told her a bunch of lies. He said how he had taken a walk after their spat, how he hadn't bothered heading back home until shortly after two a.m., when he'd found Lisbon. That nobody could confirm his whereabouts as he had been alone and had actively avoided heading towards civilization. As for the change of clothes, well it was a suit he'd dumped in the trunk of his car a couple of months ago and he'd felt the need to get out of his stage outfit. He watched carefully as Lisbon noted down his every word, despite the fact that it was all being recorded. She seemed to believe him; that was the main thing.

The questions were predictable, mundane. Jane had been present at enough murder inquiries to know what he was going to be asked. It was all so formulaic, almost like an interrogation by numbers. "What was your relationship like with your wife?", "Did you suspect she was having an affair?", "Does she have any enemies that you know of?" and the like. Still, it was routine and according to the CBI, necessary. As Lisbon was the one asking the questions, he dutifully answered them, blemishing the truth when and where necessary.

When she suddenly reached out, clicked off the tape recorder and automatically covered the microphone with her hand, he was surprised. It certainly didn't feel as though the interview were over, though he would have preferred it if it was. All he wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a month. Preferably, with the comforting form of Lisbon pressed against his side. It was coming up to five a.m. and they both needed their sleep. At least, if he were sleeping, his mind would stop running at a thousand miles an hour and he would be able to relax, if only a little.

"I have to ask…"

"What?" Jane queried, though he had a shrinking feeling that he knew what was coming next.

"Did you do it?"

**TBC…**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Thank you to: phoenixmagic1, Jisbon4ever, watchyouwalk, Viktorija, In The Name, lil smiles and Famous4it for reviewing part three. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Four**

"What did you say?"

"You heard me."

Lisbon stared at him searchingly, hoping for an answer. She knew that she was fighting a losing battle; it was like a novice trying to take on a Grand Master. But she had to try; she had to hope that because of their relationship, because of how they felt about one another**,** that he would willingly offer up the truth. Sometimes, Lisbon was certain that she was the only person he was entirely honest with. This, however, was not one of those occasions. She understood just how much Jane loathed his wife at times and statistics showed that in the majority of cases, victims knew their killer.

But was his hatred of the situation he'd found himself in enough to drive him to murder?

In all honesty, she just wasn't sure.

She wished that she could be. Jane was complicated and that was one of the reasons she was so attracted to him. Lisbon had never been one for the simple life, even as a kid. His past, his shady dealings with the carnival, all of it intrigued her. There was also the idea of trying to 'fix' him, to make him a morally better person. It wasn't something she intended to do; it just happened time and time again.

But she wanted, _needed_, to know that he was above murder. That her faith in him hadn't been a complete and utter lapse of judgment. The very idea that she could trust somebody who would mercilessly kill another human being shook her. He had done some pretty dark things in the past, though all of it was legal, if only just. Since they had started dating, he'd cut back a bit and started to change a little, but there could just as easily have been relapses that she just didn't know about. He was pretty secretive at times; they both were. She had also hoped he would give up the phony psychic career. There was something so unsavory about it; it was almost as if she'd known that it would come back and bite him on the ass one day.

That was if this wasn't just some convoluted, ridiculous plot where he was actually guilty.

"How could you say that?" he muttered eventually, still looking completely shocked. "My wife and my child have been murdered by Red John. Wasn't the smiley face on the wall evidence enough?"

"And haven't you ever heard of copycat killers?" she snapped back in return. "Of people trying to pin the blame on high-profile murderers in order to get away with heinous crimes?"

"Yes, but this isn't one of those times," Jane answered with a low voice. "I can't believe that you, of all people, would think so little of me."

"Patrick, I'm…"

"Don't _'Patrick' _me."

"Well, what do you want me to call you, then? Mr. Jane?"

"I thought this was an interrogation. _You _seem to be acting as if it's one."

"You know this is just-"

"Shh."

She stared at him, completely stunned. Then again, it was so Jane to just stop an argument mid-flow in order to just listen to… nothing. It wasn't physically possible for him to do anything normally.

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

"Rustling. Heavy breathing. I think somebody's watching us."

"Apart from Minelli, who is in his office because we're in here and the security guard who is at his post outside, we're the only people in the building."

"No."

"No?"

"We're not."

"Don't be-"

He held up a hand to silence her again and against her better judgment, she obeyed. Jane screwed his eyes tightly shut and furrowed his brow as he listened. Lisbon too, tried to hear something. She cocked her head to one side ever so slightly before glancing warily over at the door. As far as she was concerned, nothing was happening. The building was deadly silent, just as it was expected to be during the graveyard shift.

"See?"

"I didn't hear anything."

"But…"

"Come on. Let's get out of here. We're not getting anywhere," Lisbon suggested, though Jane didn't appear to hear her. "Come on. You can stay at my place, if you like?"

"So you've finished accusing me of murder, have you?"

"Patrick…"

"Fine. But I'm sleeping on the couch."

Lisbon shrugged her shoulders. At least it would mean she would know where he was. Then, after they had managed to get a little rest, she would be able to finish off this farce of an interview.

It was going to be one of those cases. Whenever Red John was involved in some way, it always was.

xxx

As he settled into the passenger seat of her SUV, Jane decided he was a little irritated with Lisbon. Well, he would have been if he were actually innocent and therefore that meant he had to act as if he'd been genuinely hurt by her suspicions. He'd been surprised that she had been curious enough to suspect he could be responsible. Usually, whenever Red John killed yet another victim, they became so fixated on the sole task of catching the serial killer. All other potential motives were completely ignored as being irrelevant. Time and time again, he'd watched their desolation as they realized that he had slipped through their fingers yet again. That was what drove him to continue consulting for the CBI. Well, that and getting to spend time with Lisbon without his now-deceased wife being able to suspect a thing.

Lisbon remained silent as she drove. The window was open just a crack, allowing a breeze to enter the vehicle and cool them down. It was probably wise; he was feeling dead on his feet and Jane had no doubt that Lisbon was too. The fresh air would help her stay awake and therefore remain focused on the road. He wondered whether or not they would have been holding a conversation if they were feeling less tired. Lisbon was obviously feeling embarrassed about her question and therefore withdrew from him a little. She always did in situations like that. He didn't blame her much; admitting you were wrong was always a difficult thing to do. Only problem was, she was dead right and he didn't have the guts to tell her. Well, if he did, it would defy the whole objective of him trying to cover his tracks in the first place.

He closed his eyes briefly, but soon discovered that the headlights from the oncoming traffic bothered him. It wasn't as if he would have been able to sleep in the car anyway; he hadn't been able to sleep and travel since he was seven. Instead, he took to alternating between checking the mirror and staring at Lisbon, who was acting as if she was on her own. She wasn't fond of being scrutinized by Jane, but then again, not many people were. However, on this occasion, she was doing a pretty good job at ignoring him. Whether that was because she was irritated with how the case was unfolding, even in these very early stages, or because she was determined to focus on the task in hand, he wasn't sure.

They were also being followed.

Lisbon hadn't noticed, but Jane had. He had only realized it about ten minutes earlier, at first assuming it was coincidence. That they just happened to be heading in the same direction for now and that sooner or later, they would disappear off on their own way However, every time they turned left, the silver car did too. If they lost them for a short while, sooner or later, it was back on their tail. Half of him was fairly certain that the car had been parked in the parking lot opposite the CBI headquarters. Jane couldn't be sure though; the night had been such a blur that it was hardly surprising that a few facts were eluding him.

"Take the next right."

"What?"

"Just do it."

"Why?"

"Don't question me. Please."

When she turned on the blinkers, he was pleased, even if he did notice her trying desperately to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. There was a time and a place for her to pick a fight, to be stubborn**,** and as far as he was concerned, now was not it. When the car he had been keeping tabs on didn't follow them around the bend, he breathed a sigh of relief. Obviously, he was just feeling a little nervous because of what had happened. It was hardly surprising; he had, after all, framed a serial killer for murder. Now that odd things were beginning to happen, first at the CBI headquarters and now with the strange car, he was only just realizing that that was probably not such a good idea.

He settled back down in the chair as Lisbon navigated her way through the back routes. Jane's detour had put at least an additional fifteen minutes onto their journey time, but Lisbon was presumably feeling too tired to complain about it.

Jane didn't notice the same silver car parked at an unmanned crossroads just ahead. Neither did Lisbon.

Therefore, neither expected the driver to shoot out of the junction just as they drove past.

Jane was unconscious seconds after impact. Lisbon was merely in a great deal of pain.

xxx

"You're just the same as you always were," Angela snapped, thoroughly irritated with her husband. "If you're not family, you're a mark. You haven't changed a bit."

"Of course I have! I don't do this for fun, I do it to support you and Lottie."

"Yeah, sure. It's such hard work. Having women constantly chasing you around, swindling the life's savings out of vulnerable elderly women. Wining and dining with celebrities you happen to impress with your so-called gifts," she ranted, not looking once at her husband. "And if your psychic career is to support us, why the hell do you consult for the police?"

"Because they asked me to!"

"Oh really? I thought it was more because you couldn't stand to be apart from that cop lady. Why else would a common carnie like you be able to stand working with the police?"

"Don't you start acting all high and mighty. Remember, your roots are the same as mine."

"Yes**,** but I managed to escape them and do something else, something worthwhile with my life. You? You're just the same as you always were. _You_ just pretend that it's completely different when really you're too blind to realize that it's exactly the same thing."

"That's not fair."

"Fair? You want to talk to me about fair? You killed me, Patrick Jane. How is that fair?"

"It was self-defense! You tried to kill me first!"

"Yes and does _she_ believe that? She doesn't, does she? She suspects you're a cold, hard murderer and that's something she'll never forgive you for," she stated proudly, thoroughly pleased to have hit a nerve. "And you know what's worst? She's absolutely right, isn't she?"

xxx

"Are you done yet?"

"Ms. Lisbon, you've been involved in a serious car crash. I would be a little more patient, if I were you."

"Yes and my… my colleague is somewhere in this hospital and I would quite like to know if he's at least alright."

"I'm afraid I couldn't tell you even if I knew."

"Sure."

"You should get some rest, you look like you need it," the doctor who had been treating her eventually announced. "It'll be several hours until you'll be ready to leave."

Lisbon laid back down on the hospital bed, in a foul mood. The doctor may have been doing his job, but she would have appreciated a little more sympathy and a lot more information. Briefly, she had contemplated bringing up the fact that she was a cop, but she had a feeling that it wouldn't have made a difference either way. He was obviously a stickler for the rules and would not divulge any information on Jane. She was already blaming herself for landing them both in hospital as it was. As far as she was concerned, she should have noticed the car in the junction and should have reacted faster when it pulled out. Besides, why did she even decide to travel home in the first place? They could just as easily have booked into a motel near the headquarters or even slept on the couch in her office. But no, she just had to overcomplicate things and tell him she'd drive him home at some god-awful hour. It was funny how all the other potential options seemed so obvious now, after the accident.

It didn't help that she hadn't really apologized for doubting him over the murders either.

She knew Jane, she loved him. How could she even consider that he could be responsible? Screw statistics. What he'd done as a youth didn't mean a thing. Jane had changed since then. He was a better person. Well, sort of. Lisbon was also certain that, given time, he would have stopped needing to pretend to be a psychic. That he would no longer feel the buzz from that aspect of his life and he'd just let it fade away into obscurity. Sure, he loathed his wife, but that didn't mean he wanted to kill her. He just wanted her out of his life somehow. The fact that he _was _changing should have been proof enough that he wasn't guilty of killing his family.

Besides, he'd never hurt a hair on Charlotte's head. If there was one person on the whole planet he was absolutely devoted to, it was his daughter.

Just because it wasn't Jane, it didn't mean it was Red John either though. They'd have to look into the other possibilities.

Well, when she was feeling a little less drowsy anyway.

She glanced at the clock. It was already six thirty a.m and she had been awake for nearly twenty four hours.

Tiredness was finally beginning to creep in again. Maybe a nap _would_ do her some good? Then, when she was feeling wide awake, she would be able to inform her team about what had happened.

She'd also be able to take on those dratted doctors and find out what was happening with Jane as well.

**TBC…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay. Long story short, I have a job (which I love) but have still been feeling down since a recent family crisis. I'll get back to normal soon, hopefully.

Thank you to: Miss Peg, watchyouwalk, Lizzybeth93, Jisbon4ever, 24Mentalistlover, xxxBekaForEvaxxx, Viktorija, Famous4it and Kaslyna for reviewing part four. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Five**

Lisbon was discharged from the hospital at half past eleven in the morning. As far as she was concerned, it couldn't have come a moment too soon.

It was earlier than she expected, but that didn't mean she left immediately. There were more important things for her to do. Besides, it wasn't as if she could actually get anywhere without hailing a cab. Even if she hadn't written off her car just before sunrise, it wasn't possible to drive with a broken arm. The first thing she had done upon waking from her brief nap was calling Cho and updating him on the situation. He had been somewhat shocked at her news, but reassuring enough not to show it too much. Often, he got some slack for his apparent lack of emotional range, but Lisbon knew him well enough to know he was quite a sensitive person. He just didn't feel the need to wear his heart on his sleeve; he simply preferred to internalize his feelings. Naturally, he assured her that as soon as she were ready, he would come and pick her up immediately. In the meantime, he would simply hold the fort.

When she knew he was on his way, she headed off towards the ward where Jane was apparently staying. Or more likely, being held against his will. Lisbon knew full well that he had an aversion to hospitals. Apparently, he thought there was something unnatural about the sterility.

It had taken all of her powers of persuasion just to find out where Jane was from the medical staff. Lisbon was rather glad that her doctor hadn't ever been involved in any criminal activity, as far as she knew. Talking to him had been like getting blood out of a stone. Unless it pertained to her health and well-being, he had simply refused to talk to her. At least she was shot of him now, even if she would have to live with her arm in a plaster cast for the next six weeks or so. She scowled. That was going to make some things at work even more difficult and it had already cost her precious time working the Red John case. The longer they left things, the more likely that Red John, or whoever was actually responsible, would slip through their fingers again. At least Cho and Rigsby would have been working hard all morning - but their team was already working with minimal resources. Having herself out of action, however temporarily, was stretching them to the very limit.

She nodded in gratitude when a nurse pointed her in the right direction. Using her right shoulder, she pushed open the heavy door. When Lisbon saw Jane, her heart sank. His eyes were closed, but she didn't think he was asleep. He did, however, look as though he was in a great deal of pain despite the fact that he had probably been dosed up on painkillers just like she had. That was what hurt; seeing him in pain and feeling she was responsible for it. At least he seemed to be in one piece; it could have been a lot worse than it actually was. Realistically, she knew he appeared better than she expected, but it still hurt to see him in such a state. When she had last seen him, unconscious, covered with his own blood and bruised, she had feared the worst. Now that the blood had been mopped up and a couple of stitches were in place, he just looked as though he had been in the wars, but was well on the road to recovery.

"Patrick?"

"Angela?"

Lisbon frowned. Why had he said his wife's name? Didn't he remember that she had died less than twenty four hours earlier? Had he had some brain injury that she hadn't been informed about and if so, what was his prognosis? How likely was it that he was going to make a full recovery? There weren't just the ramifications on their relationship, his career and his personal life to consider, but also the case. He was currently one of only a small handful of people of interest and they still had to pick his brains a little more.

"No, it's Teresa."

"Oh. Okay," he mumbled and leaned back. "Angela's dead, isn't she?"

Lisbon nodded. At least he hadn't forgotten that much.

"And Lottie?"

"Her too," Lisbon confirmed and his bottom lip trembled slightly. "Do you… do you remember how it happened?"

He frowned.

"No. I just know they're…"

Lisbon took a deep breath. This was not what she needed right now, not when she felt as though she was being pulled in every direction and like everybody wanted a piece of her. All she really wanted to do was go home and curl up with a mug of hot chocolate. Instead, she had to tell the man she loved that his beloved daughter and not-so-beloved wife had been brutally murdered, presumably by a serial killer, though not necessarily. For a second time. She had already done that once and that had been hard enough. Now she had to do it all over again because of a stupid accident that she deemed as being her fault.

"They were killed, Patrick," she whispered and quickly took his hand. "We think it was Red John."

xxx

"Hello, Patrick."

"Go away, leave me alone."

"Why should I? If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't be here. I'd be at home, with Charlie."

"I need to rest. I've been in a car crash, you know."

"Oh**,** I know. That cop woman was driving, wasn't she?"

"And?"

"She landed you in here. That's karma for you."

"It wasn't her fault!"

"She never noticed the car, did she? Didn't take into account that it might…"

"Stop it."

"Stop it, stop it," Angela echoed, mimicking his whining. "I just can't handle any more! That's not why I'm here anyway."

"It's not? Then why don't you…"

"Oh**,** don't start," she muttered and rolled her eyes for good measure. "Red John would like a word. He's annoyed at you for blemishing his good name."

"Red John? But I thought…"

"He's alive. Unlike me. Doesn't mean that he can't pass on messages though."

"But…"

"Hello, Mr. Jane."

xxx

His eyes sprang open and nervously, he glanced around. The door was swinging on its hinges and beside him, was a bunch of flowers. They hadn't been there earlier, not when Lisbon had dropped by to see how he was. The poor thing had been so apologetic, had immediately shouldered the blame and insisted that he'd tell her if he needed anything. He hadn't at the time, but now, he quite liked to know how the roses had gotten there. As far as he knew, only Lisbon and by default, the rest of her team, knew that he had been hospitalized. He didn't have any family in the area, unless Danny had drifted in this direction recently.

A nurse smiled genially as she strolled into the room. Immediately, she headed over to the machinery and started scrutinizing the feeds. Jane watched her every move, only vaguely intrigued. She was the first person he'd seen on her rounds, but then again, he hadn't been there all that long. For most of his (hopefully) short stay thus far, he'd either been unconscious or sleeping, so that was hardly a surprise. All he'd had time to do was talking to Lisbon and identifying that his room was located on the ground floor, at the end of a fairly long corridor. It was some information and better than nothing. However, it wasn't exactly what was interesting him right now.

His unexpected gift was.

This was why he appreciated his nurse's company. At least it was possible she would be able to inform him about the flowers. It could be a simple explanation; a gift from the agents at the CBI or maybe some elderly patient had just died and the staff hadn't wanted them to go to waste. Until he knew for certain, it wasn't going to stop bugging him though.

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, Mr. Jane?" she asked, sounding a little breathless. "I'm very sorry for your loss."

"It's okay," he answered. Hospitals were rife with gossip; it was no wonder that she already knew about his family. "Do you know where these flowers came from?"

"I don't, sorry. I've only just started my shift," she offered by way of explanation.

There was a tap at the window and the rustling of leaves of the bush behind it. The woman had already distracted herself with updating the flipchart at the end of his bed and didn't seem to notice. He was being watched, he was sure of it. Not only that, but he had a very strong hunch that whoever had been observing him through the window had been the one responsible for the flowers.

Without any warning, he ripped the IV line out of his elbow and swung his legs out of the bed. Jane took a couple of seconds to steady himself before he stood and immediately made for the door. There was no way he was wasting any more time sitting around and doing nothing. He may have been suffering from a concussion, something which he was confident would sort itself out, but that didn't mean he wasn't up to doing some investigation. Besides, what with his mind playing tricks on him and the ominous events of the past twenty four hours, he needed answers and fast. His 'forgetting' of the incident last night had been a blatant lie - how could he forget? He knew that if he faked amnesia, then maybe, just maybe, Lisbon wouldn't feel the need to continually grill him about his involvement in the long run. As far as she was concerned, those memories were dead and gone.

Once out in the corridor, he broke out into a run. His head was pounding and his vision was swimming, but he didn't care. He just wanted to get out of the hospital. To try and catch up with whoever had been stalking him less than two minutes ago.

"Mr. Jane, wait! You need to…," she trailed off and began to chase after him. "Mr. Jane!"

xxx

"What have we got?"

"Are you sure you don't want to take the rest of the day off, Boss?" Rigsby enquired politely and flinched when he was treated to one of her trademark stares. "I'm not saying that you can't… what I mean is… you were in a car crash less than twelve hours ago, that's all."

"Yes, and I'm relatively uninjured," she retorted and both of her subordinates stared pointedly at her arm. "Apart from that. Besides, this is a Red John case. I don't have time to be ill."

"Well, if you're sure…"

"I am. So what's been happening?"

Cho quickly updated her on the situation. He explained how he had managed to get hold of Daniel 'Danny' Ruskin, Angela's younger brother and they'd already had an informal chat with him. Apparently, he was devastated and was already making plans for the funeral. Both Cho and Rigsby didn't think he was responsible for killing his sister and niece. However, he did have a relatively shady past and that meant Lisbon wasn't as quick as they were to disregard him entirely. She would at least want to meet him herself before she came to any conclusions. Rigsby especially had been swayed by the smiley painted on the wall; that meant he had become relatively blinkered to all other possibilities. Lisbon didn't blame him though. It was his first Red John case and therefore, he was a little too enthusiastic, all things considered.

After instructing Cho to check through Angela's social connections for anything unusual and Rigsby to collect the older Red John case files from the archives to read through, she withdrew to her office. There, she sat behind her desk and allowed her shoulders to sag a little. She was running on empty. The few hours of sleep she had snatched at the hospital simply weren't enough and her mind was foggy due to side-effects from the painkillers. This was going to be a long day and she didn't have the time for this kind of thing. With a sigh, she opened the thin manila folder to stare at the photos which had already been prepared of the crime scene.

Nothing was coming to her. All she could see was that it was a Red John case but something hadn't quite gone to plan. Whether that was Red John himself being unprepared or due to a different influence, she was still none the wiser. Half of her hoped it was Red John. Even though he was as elusive as ever, it simplified things considerably. It meant they had a means and a motive for a start.

She allowed her head to rest against her wooden desk.

Maybe she had agreed to the promotion far too young? Lisbon certainly felt as though this specific case was way beyond her expertise. There had to be more highly qualified individuals within the CBI who were more suited to the Red John case. Either that or she should have gotten a few more years' worth of experience as second in command. People had whispered that she was not ready for it, that the only reason she got the job was because Minelli favored her. For the first time in a long while, she was beginning to believe that it was true.

She was way out of her depth.

After two minutes, she straightened up again. Defeatist thoughts like that weren't going to get her anywhere. Lisbon knew she would never catch the killer if she didn't believe that she was capable of the job. Besides, she wasn't about to give her doubters the satisfaction of being right. Nor was she willing to fall flat on her face and humiliate herself, figuratively speaking, anyway.

She pulled the case files back in front of her.

There had to be a clue in there somewhere, there just had to be.

When her phone rang shrilly, she jolted up from her sleep. Disorientated for half a second, Lisbon focused on what she knew. She had been looking at the Red John case. Trying to check that the murder of Jane's family matched up to the previous crime scenes and then… Then, she must have fallen asleep. It was hardly surprising, but still, she cursed herself and her current state of fragility.

She scooped up the plastic receiver and placed it firmly against her ear. Trying to sound as authoritative as it was possible in her drug-and-sleep-induced haze, she muttered her name down the phone and waited for a response.

"Ms. Lisbon, this is Doctor Wright; Mr. Jane is in my care? He has you listed as next of kin?"

"He does?"

"Yes, we were unable to get hold of his wife and you're apparently the next port of call," the doctor announced before plowing on, without giving her a chance to interrupt. "Anyway, we're having a few problems with Mr. Jane. Would it be possible for you to come to the hospital to discuss his current situation?"

**TBC…**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Sorry for not updating. Another family crisis.

Thank you to: watchyouwalk, Kaslyna, Jisbon4ever, 24Mentalistlover, Famous4it and Viktorija for reviewing part five.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Six**

"What the hell do you think you were doing?" she snapped, still seething.

Lisbon had taken to pacing around Jane's room and his eyes never left her. He knew she would be angry when she found out; he'd expected all this. So, he simply blanked out the majority of what she was saying. Jane was sure that she was probably making some excellent points but there was no need to depress himself further. He'd heard similar angry tirades time and time again. Besides, he was still annoyed that he hadn't been able find anything out. Two guards had managed to catch him before he'd even made it to the fire exit and dragged him back to his private room. One had remained stationed outside since then.

He was surprised that she had turned up so swiftly. Jane had assumed that she would have been snowed under with the case, trying desperately to find the evidence that he had destroyed. Either that or focusing on what he had either forgotten or been unable to deal with or actively put there to divert from the trail. Not that she knew any of that. Sure, it was obvious that she still suspected a little; she wouldn't have asked outright otherwise. But she definitely didn't know for certain and had probably sidelined the issue since the accident. He hoped that sooner or later she would decide that it was actually a Red John case and that the killer had been rushed rather than somebody else being responsible. That would simplify things no end. Of course, it wouldn't do anything for the nagging sense of guilt at the back of his mind, but it would make life easier.

"You're in here for a reason, Jane," she finished, with a heavy sigh. Jane immediately took note of the fact that she used his surname; that meant she was furious with him. "And you're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?"

"Of course I am."

"Then what did I just say?"

"You're not listening to a word I'm saying, are you?" he echoed and she frowned.

"Before then."

"Oh, something about how I'm in here for my own good and shouldn't be wandering around the corridors when I'm receiving treatment. Blah blah blah. All boring common-sense stuff."

"Lucky guess," she retorted, "besides, if it's all common-sense, why weren't you doing it?"

"Because I need to find out who is watching me and why."

"That sounds like you're sniffing at conspiracy theories again."

At that moment, a cleaner came in the room, walking backwards and pulling along his bucket and mop. Initially, Lisbon scowled at the interruption, obviously irritated by his presence. Jane took that as meaning that she wasn't quite finished with him yet. When he straightened and pulled the mop out of the bucket, he turned and smiled briefly at them both. She returned the smile, somewhat reluctantly, but Jane felt his blood run cold.

He recognized that face instantly.

It was the one that had replaced his wife's just before he'd woken up. Just before he'd been disturbed by the nurse and attempted to make a break for it.

If what he'd seen had been right that meant this man was Red John.

Jane shook his head.

He was being utterly ridiculous. His mind was playing tricks on him; he was hallucinating. Probably due to a mixture of exhaustion, emotional trauma and concussion. There was no such thing as ghosts, psychics, the paranormal. That was something he'd always been certain of; they were just tricks used by showmen to amaze the impressionable, the vulnerable. Ways to get people to part with their hard-earned cash by playing on the unknown. Taking childhood fears and making them seem real again.

Still, he had to ask. He had to be completely certain.

"Do I know you?"

"Don't think so," he answered hurriedly, clearly wanting to get on with his job. "I just got back from vacation…"

The man did a shoddy job, rushing through it as quickly as he possibly could. He seemed to feel uncomfortable in the presence of the pair of them. They remained silent; Lisbon staring out of the window aimlessly and Jane staring pointedly at the poor cleaner as he went about his work. Jane noted just how ineffectual his cleaning was and how he looked particularly relieved when he left the room swiftly.

"I think you should question him about the Red John case."

"Who, the cleaner?"

"Who else?"

"Wow, you really must have done some damage to your head. That's the biggest jump to a conclusion I've ever seen you make," Lisbon stated lightly and nudged him gently with her arm. "And that's saying something."

He pouted and Lisbon's expression softened a little.

"Look, if you give me some more concrete evidence, then maybe I'll consider it."

"Fine."

After a second, he acquiesced. It was something that would keep him entertained while he was still in hospital. Nobody had given him any clue as to when he'd be leaving and it was already getting irritating, even though it had still only been a matter of hours since the accident. Jane would have preferred to be keeping an eye on what was going on with the Red John case. Make sure that the team weren't getting too close to working things out. Push them on a different path, if entirely necessary. He couldn't do that from his sickbed.

"Come here," he added quickly.

Tentatively, she crept forwards and then knelt to be at his level. She nervously reached over with her uninjured arm and allowed her fingers to run through his curls slowly. Jane smiled; Lisbon wasn't always that tactile, but when she was, he absolutely adored it. It was probably a better medicine for him than anything which the doctors at hospital could prescribe.

"Are you sure about this?"

He almost laughed. Obviously, she didn't realize that he could still remember their relationship. How they had accidentally fallen for one another, the secrets and lies they'd spouted to try and prevent it from leaking out. The late night visits and early morning escapes as they tried to spend as much time with each other as feasibly possible. Enough time to get their fix of one another and not lead to Angela growing suspicious. Jane sat, wrapped his arms around her and placed a kiss firmly on her lips.

At least that answered her question.

When she pulled away, she smirked at him.

"I'm still mad at you, you know," she spoke before kissing him lightly once more. "I'm gonna get back to work now. Just behave, please? And get some sleep."

xxx

"Do we have to do this again?"

"Why ever not?"

"I know you're not real so… so just leave me alone."

"You sound like a five year old, speaking like that."

"I don't care. I just want to sleep."

"But Patrick, you _are_ sleeping."

"Yes, but it's not a restful sleep."

"You think you really deserve that? After what you did to us?"

"If you hadn't come at me with-"

"So you're saying that I deserve death? What about Charlotte? Did she deserve to have her Daddy stab her in the gut with a bread knife?"

"I…"

The words died and he found that he couldn't actually respond. Of course Charlotte hadn't deserved what had happened to her; what five**-**year**-**old did? He had wanted the world for his little girl, not a premature death. Least of all at his own hands.

"So, for once, the mighty Patrick Jane is lost for words. But I'm right, aren't I? You hate that you killed your own daughter. But me? Who cares. I had it coming. I was making your life miserable. I wouldn't leave you so you could carry on screwing that bitch cop of yours guilt-free. You know what? That makes you as bad as him. Red John I mean."

"It was an accident."

"You've already said that. Multiple times," she stated before glancing anxiously over her shoulder. "I guess I better leave you. Not in peace. Red John's back again. I know you'll find his company illuminating, to say the least."

"Yes, Mr. Jane. You know, my first was an accident too. Only after a while, you begin to get the taste of it. The feel of human flesh under your fingertips. Having the power to destroy a woman's life in your hands. Hearing her beg for mercy. It's beautiful, Mr. Jane. Absolutely beautiful."

"I'll never be like you. Never. It was…"

"An accident. Yes, I know. Only thing is, one day you'll want the power trip again. There's nothing quite like the thrill of death. You'll see…"

xxx

"You look tired, Boss."

"I feel it," Lisbon admitted.

Cho nodded in response and kept his eyes on the road. Lisbon was grateful that he had been more than willing to drive her around while she was unable to do so. Especially when they were all horrendously busy and didn't really have time for Jane and his antics. He couldn't even behave in hospital, even when he knew he was there for his own good. That hadn't surprised either of them. While Lisbon had been berating Jane, Cho had stayed behind in the car to complete some paperwork and wait for Rigsby to call with news from the office. Hospitals made him feel nervous and despite it being uncomfortable, he preferred being cramped in a vehicle than in a lifeless waiting room. It had been a big thing for her to do, to admit to any weakness whatsoever, especially in front of a subordinate. Cho didn't let it go unnoticed, but didn't comment on it either and Lisbon was appreciative of the fact. The last thing she needed at that very moment was somebody fussing over her, reminding her of everything that was going on. All she wanted to do was get back to work and focus on the case some more.

Not that she was getting anywhere with that either.

The thing was driving her absolutely insane. There had to be an answer somewhere. Red John wasn't superhuman, he had to make mistakes. Everybody did. The problem was just finding the weakness in his armor, one of the occasions when he had made a fatal error. She had a feeling that theoretically, this should be the case. He didn't normally kill kids and yet, Charlotte had been a victim.

She had probably wondered what the fuss was about and simply caught Red John in the act of murder. If she had remained sleeping soundly, she would probably still be alive. Then, Jane wouldn't be quite as much of a mess emotionally as he was. He wouldn't be accusing people left, right and center of being Red John. Nor would he be imagining he was being stalked; thinking that somebody was following him, was out to get him.

In short, Lisbon was worried what effect this was having on his mental health.

Of course, she didn't have the expertise to make a medical diagnosis; she wasn't a doctor or a shrink. What she did know, however, was how death affected different people. Lisbon had experienced it herself far too young. Both parents dead while she was still in her teens. It had taken her years to come to terms with it and she would be the first to admit that in all honesty, she had never gotten over it. How could she? Added to that, she witnessed the effect it had on people day to day. She had informed countless people that their loved ones had been killed by now. The seven stages of grief were something she was more than aware of.

She also knew all too well about the grieving process going horribly wrong.

It could easily be happening to Jane right now.

It wouldn't be surprising, either.

There were a lot of complex issues going on there. Jane probably had more than his fair share of emotions to be dealing with right now. He had just been involved in a car crash and had been hospitalized. His memory was affecting him; something which he always prized and found vital to his career. They didn't know the long term repercussions and he might have to learn how to live like an 'average' person. In a completely separate incident, his family had also been murdered. His precious daughter, whom he doted on, had been slaughtered by some bastard for no apparent reason. He was a father without a daughter; something which was terribly tragic. Then there was his wife. It didn't help that Jane had resented Angela. The fact that she had died could mean that he felt partially responsible. That if he had appreciated her more, then maybe she wouldn't have been killed. There would also be the guilt from the fact that they had been in a relationship behind Angela's back. When he'd kissed her barely half an hour earlier, it had taken her completely off guard. The fact that he seemed more than happy to continue with their affair almost seemed odd. But then again, he could just as well be repressing his feelings and simply not dealing with them.

That could quite easily explain how he was currently reacting.

She wondered briefly whether or not she should mention it to his doctor, but pushed the thoughts to one side. Things were already complicated enough as it was. Pushing Jane to unwillingly have a psych test done would just add to the stress. It would also place an unnecessary strain on their relationship. If she got increasingly worried, then maybe she would reconsider it. Until then, she would just have to keep an eye on him.

When they reached the CBI headquarters, Lisbon was rather relieved. At least it meant that she could finally distract herself from the thoughts plaguing her. Focusing on the case would be far more productive too. She glanced briefly at her watch. It was already five p.m. Quickly, she decided she would give it a couple more hours before heading home for the night. She was almost dead on her feet already and needed to get at least some rest, otherwise she would be paying for it later. Her doctor had advised she took the rest of the week off work to recuperate. Not that he knew, but she considered having the evenings off during a crucial case as some sort of a compromise.

The moment they exited the elevator, Rigsby approached, looking harried. They had left him looking into Angela's family contacts, trying to get hold of her parents, brother and people who worked with them. Lisbon had assumed that it had been a dead end based on the fact that he hadn't bothered calling. However, the expression on his face seemed to suggest otherwise. He looked particularly stressed, nervous even.

"Boss?" Rigsby called, seeming very apprehensive. "I got something."

"Well?"

"Daniel Ruskin? He was in town last night," he explained, "and according to his colleagues, he was pissed as hell with Jane."

**TBC…**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** So, first things first. Yet another apology. I really have no excuse for not updating a fic that is not only finished, but beta'd and has been for a considerable amount of time. But I'll say this: I've had a tough five months and only just feel ready to come back. I'd also like to apologise for not replying to reviews. I will do from now on, but haven't had the energy up until now. Also, I'm sort-of back to writing. However, it's for a Big Bang in another fandom (yet, it is a Mentalist crossover.) Not going to say any more than that for now. So, sorry. And I genuinely hope I don't find myself in this situation again.

Thank you to Kaslyna, watchyouwalk, Jisbon4ever, Famous4it and Viktorija for reviewing part six and ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Seven**

It had been a week since Jane's family had been killed and since the accident. Lisbon was beginning to feel more like her old self, excepting the fact that she had to be more reliant on other people because of her arm. She didn't like that much, but saw it as a necessary evil. At least she wasn't being unwillingly restrained in hospital, like Jane was. Though he told her otherwise, she suspected that he wasn't behaving as well as he could have been, especially due to the derogatory tones used by any staff when she asked about him. His progress seemed slow and stilted, rather like theirs on the case. That meant that they were no closer to catching Red John and he was no closer to leaving the hospital. She tried to visit him as much as she could, but that wasn't all that often. It was hardly surprising considering the case they were working on. Jane didn't seem to mind all that much, though he didn't offer many opinions on the subject. That was unlike him, but Lisbon disregarded it. It involved his family, it was hardly surprising he wanted to distance himself from it while he was still grieving.

She had a feeling, however, that even with Jane's input, the case would still be going nowhere.

The Danny Ruskin link was already falling apart around their ears. He swore that he wasn't at the scene of the crime, that he had only arrived in Sacramento after the murders had happened. That he had decided to stop by in order to offer Jane his condolences and his support in organizing the funerals. It was only after it had happened that he discovered Jane had taunted Red John on television. Then, instead of wanting to support his brother-in-law, he wanted to rip him limb from limb, figuratively speaking. As far as Ruskin was concerned, Jane was the catalyst for their deaths. If he hadn't done what he'd done on television, then Red John would never have killed them.

However, regardless of what he said, he didn't have an alibi. He hadn't stopped off for gas during his journey, hadn't called anybody, bought any food. All they had was his word. As far as they were concerned, he could quite as easily have arrived two hours earlier than he had stated and therefore be an ideal suspect. The evident bad blood between him and Jane provided a motive and the shady background provided the means. Regardless of all that, they still didn't have any concrete evidence either way and that meant that she couldn't actually make the arrest. Instead, she was stuck just keeping an eye on him and making sure he didn't slip up.

It didn't help that he had also successfully petitioned to have the bodies released so that they could be buried. They were literally the only piece of concrete evidence they had and within twenty four hours, they would already be six feet under. Lisbon was certain that if they were given just a week longer, then their medical examiner would have been able to find out so much more about what had happened to Angela Ruskin-Jane and her daughter.

Not that Danny cared. He just wanted to let them rest in peace and give Jane hell for what happened.

"Boss?"

Cho knocked lightly on the door as he entered her office. Lisbon looked up and smiled briefly. Her second in command was one of the most reliable men she knew. If she needed something doing, it'd be done sooner than she expected. He spent a lot of the time in the bullpen reading; it looked like he was being lazy to those who didn't know him. Those who did knew that he was so organized that he had already finished his allotted tasks and was merely killing time while waiting for further instruction.

"Minelli wants to see you," he stated when she didn't respond, not moving from his spot by the door. "In his office, in five minutes."

Lisbon frowned, then nodded slightly. She just hoped it wouldn't be yet more bad news. There was only so much she could handle right now.

xxx

If Lisbon had known just how many problems Jane was going to cause trying to prove that the cleaner was Red John, then she never would have told him to get her proof. As it was, she had just been humoring him. He was ill and therefore required a softer touch than usual.

Of course, Jane didn't feel particularly sick, regardless of what the medics were telling him. He had a habit of not believing everything they told him and merely saw them as being a bunch of quacks who were too busy sticking their noses in where it wasn't welcome. He was feeling absolutely fine. There was no need to tell them about the voices in his head. That was just his guilty conscience manifesting itself in strange ways. It was only natural that there was some kind of side effect from what had happened to him of late. Besides, he was fairly certain that sooner or later, it would die down. It was just a matter of shock, of recovering from the blow.

So, when Lisbon had told him to gather evidence against the cleaner, Jane took it literally. It was a little puzzle he could focus on, something to prove that his mind was in good working order and that he should be released from hospital and back into work. Lisbon had been involved in the same car crash and she had returned the same day. She had been the one driving and he was merely a passenger. If that wasn't evidence enough that the doctors were conspiring against him, he didn't know what was. Besides, if he was right, then he would also be solving one of the most high-profile cases from his sick-bed.

That would look pretty impressive to the general public and especially to his extensive clientele list.

Unfortunately, the hospital staff didn't much approve of his antics. When they had prescribed bed rest, they had meant it. It certainly didn't mean skulking around the corridors, trying to listen into the cleaning staff. Nor did breaking and entering into the supplies closet in attempt to look for evidence of planned murderous rampages. The last straw had been when he had frightened the life out of an elderly patient, whom he considered was potentially Red John's next intended victim.

It was at that point when they called Virgil Minelli, insisting that enough was enough. That Jane was clearly lively enough to leave the hospital and therefore, should be fine provided he remained under constant supervision.

xxx

"You wanted to see me, Boss?"

Minelli glanced up and beckoned her forward. It wasn't unusual for Minelli to ask for her to drop into his office for a quick chat for whatever reason. Whenever she was assigned a new case, it was almost always her first port of call. However, she was feeling unusually apprehensive. He couldn't be giving her a new case, not while the Red John case was still particularly active. It was always clear that if Red John was involved, then he would become their immediate priority and any other case would either be sidelined or re-assigned to other units until it quietened down again. Though they were yet to apprehend the serial killer, the method seemed to be more likely to work than having people split their effort.

She also knew it wouldn't be about her staffing either. The final interviews for the new rookie weren't until next week. Lisbon would be relieved when those specific issues were over. Though the new person would require training and she would have to keep an eye on them, at least it would mean that they wouldn't be spread quite so thinly over their extensive workload. It would also provide Rigsby with a chance to get some more much-needed field experience, something he was clearly anticipating. It was just a shame that they hadn't been able to find the appropriate candidate before Red John decided to kill Jane's family. They needed that extra pair of hands now more than ever.

Having disregarded those two issues, that left one thing: Jane. Minelli could have gotten wind about their relationship from somewhere and wanted to nip the problem in the bud. If the media found out about it, they would probably have a field day. It wouldn't be below them to insinuate that their relationship somehow linked to the murders of Angela and Charlotte. It was either that or he had been wreaking havoc at the hospital and the staff had had enough and wanted to get rid of him. She wouldn't put it past him for them to call his workplace and report that he was out of order. They had even received phone calls of potential new clientele for him in the past.

Silently, she hoped that it was the latter rather than the former. She wasn't quite sure how she would be able to deal with the idea of Minelli knowing about her relationship with Jane. Lisbon knew that he would be disappointed in her. The man had been like a mentor to her, guiding her through her career with the CBI. He had always stated, in a rather gruff manner, whenever he was proud of her and pushed her when needs be. But the fact that she was willingly in a relationship with a married man? That would probably cause irreparable damage to his faith in her. It was funny, but this was the first time she had actually thought about the repercussions of her affair with Jane on her career. Until now, they had just been two separate issues entirely.

"It's about Jane."

"I thought so."

"Would you say you get along with him?"

"I would," she answered tentatively.

"Good. Because he suffered a head injury, his doctor wants him to be supervised once he's been discharged from hospital."

"What about his brother-in-law, Danny?"

She didn't want to subject Jane to Danny Ruskin particularly, but she had to ask. It seemed strange that Minelli had considered her to be the ideal person to ask to look after Jane while he recuperated. As far as Minelli was concerned, they were just work colleagues. Nothing more, nothing less. Or, rather, she hoped that was all he thought of them. Right now, she wasn't so sure.

"I don't think that's wise and I know you don't either. The Red John case has illustrated enough that there's bad blood between them."

"True. So you want me…?"

"Yes. I think you'd be most suited to the job. Besides, he'd be able to help you, what with your…"

"I'm doing fine. It's only a broken arm."

"I'm sure you are. So, will you take him? As a favor to me, if nothing else?"

"I guess so. If he can't stay alone, that is."

"Good. He needs picking up in two hours."

"Two hours?"

"Yes, they want to be rid of him _that _quickly. Something about him being convinced that a cleaner is out to get him. Should I be worried?"

Lisbon shook her head and quickly left. Looking after Jane naturally wouldn't be a problem. She was going to suggest he stayed with her anyway, though hadn't expected him to be ready to leave the hospital for at least another couple of days. He could hardly return home, not while it was still a crime scene. Besides, she had a feeling he wouldn't want to be there right now anyway. Still, it was a weight off of her shoulder, for now at least.

All this secrecy was beginning to wear her a bit thin.

xxx

"Hello, trouble."

"Who, me?"

Jane smiled innocuously and Lisbon simply scowled in response. She wished that she had had a little more warning about this situation. That she had been able to take the time to ensure her home was ready for him to stay. It was a mess; she still hadn't had the time to start unpacking her belongings and actually start moving in properly. Half of her seriously believed that she would never find time and that the stuff would just have to be resigned to its fate of being boxed up forever. Or, at least until she desperately needed whatever was packed away in it for one reason or another.

"Well, I sure as hell wasn't talking to the pot plant."

"My, my, somebody's testy today."

"You're being discharged early because you can't behave."

"I think you'll find that I was only doing as you told me to."

"What?"

"Trying to find you proof that the cleaner is-"

"I was just humoring you; you weren**'**t meant to take it literally!"

"Funny, didn't sound like it from where I was sitting."

She raked the fingers of her right hand through her hair and sighed heavily. It hadn't been the intention to just walk in and start arguing with him. Then again, it had been a funny sort of a day. The case still had as little progression as it had throughout the past week. Then there had been the whole Minelli debacle and now she was having to berate Jane for just acting as he normally did.

"Whatever. Are you ready?"

"I suppose. How's the case going?"

"I can't discuss it with you."

"That's rubbish."

"No**,** it's not," she replied heatedly as she picked up his bag. "You're not well enough to be working."

"And you are?"

"Clearly."

"Teresa, you were involved in that car crash too…"

"And I just got off lightly. _You're_ the one who suffered from head injuries and you're the one whose…"

She trailed off and swallowed deeply. It was cruel to bring that up again. Regardless of how he'd felt about Angela nearing the end of their relationship, he still had to have some attachment, some fondness for her. Charlotte was another matter entirely. It always felt wrong whenever a parent discovered they outlived their offspring. The only difference in this situation was that she was closer to said parent than usual. He wasn't just a complete stranger.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're tired and stressed."

"But…"

"I said don't," he replied, slightly more forcefully and snatching the bag out of her iron grip. "Do you know what's happening with the funerals? I guess I better…"

"Danny's sorted it."

"Oh. When?"

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Isn't that a bit soon, what with there being an open murder investigation?"

"That's what I said, but some fat cats didn't seem to think that mattered. That apparently it**'**s clear Red John is the murderer and therefore…"

"I thought it was clear that Red John did it."

"We have to keep our minds open."

"You'll come with me?" he asked, quickly changing tack. Jane didn't want her thinking too hard about the fact that somebody else could have killed his family.

"If you want me to."

"I do. Now, who's driving?"

"Cho. Come on, we don't want to keep him waiting."

**TBC…**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** See, said I'd continue to update at a better pace now! Let's just see if I can stick to my word.

Thank you to: watchyouwalk, Famous4it and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part seven. I'm so glad you're sticking with the fic. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

EDIT: Just a quick reminder that I'm watching at UK pace, so please, please, please refrain from telling me anything to do with the latter half of season three. Thank you!

x tromana

* * *

**Part Eight**

"I don't want to do this."

Lisbon froze. A spoonful of cereal hovered in front of her mouth as she took in what Jane had just said. Funerals were never pleasant; she had already attended far too many, in her opinion and this one was just another in a long line. Still, she had expected Jane to understand the importance of going through with the ceremony. It was traditional, it would hopefully help with the grieving process, mean that he could move on properly.

Not that he had appeared to be grieving properly at all.

All he had done over the past week was fixate on the concept that some random worker at the hospital was Red John. Of course, all it had succeeded in doing was annoying his doctors. If that cleaner had indeed been the serial killer, something she sincerely doubted, then he would hardly have kept damning evidence at his workplace, would he? That would have been careless beyond belief and that was one thing Red John never was. She had tried briefly to talk about Lottie and Angela, but Jane had always brushed it aside, stating that he wasn't ready to think about it just yet.

It was an obvious case of denial.

He had to start thinking about it sooner or later. It wasn't healthy for him to keep brushing it under the carpet like this. Of course, she was more than willing to support him through this terrible time, but that didn't mean she could wait forever. She had her own life to live, regardless of what happened to him. When she had agreed to start her relationship with Jane, she had literally put her heart on the line. It wasn't something that was particularly characteristic of her; she usually didn't trust so easily. But there had been something about him that had meant he managed to get under her skin. Jane hadn't let her down, had been there when she felt compelled to do the same for him. Besides, he wasn't just her lover, but one of her work colleagues. That meant she felt the unerring desire to protect him as best she could. Part of her knew that their infidelity didn't deserve such faithfulness, but she couldn't help it. It was pretty much ingrained into her and had been since her childhood.

His denial was slowly but surely beginning to hurt her too. She knew it was going to be hard, that she was going to have to be patient, but she had expected at least a tiny bit of progress. A hint that he was heading towards accepting that his family was gone.

But his mindset hadn't changed at all. It was as if he was still trapped in that moment when he had first gazed down at their butchered bodies. Therefore, the man seated in front of her was only half the man she loved. The other half seemed to have completely disappeared without a trace and she desperately wanted him back. Lisbon knew things would never get back to normal; this was the kind of tragedy that lasted forever. But the sooner things could get back to something similar to what they once were, the better.

She placed the spoon back in her bowl and cocked her head quizzically.

"Why not?"

"This shouldn't be happening. I shouldn't have…"

"Patrick," she muttered, with downcast eyes. "These things happen and it's not your fault. I know it's hard to grieve for loved ones, I've been there before. But you, we, have to do this. For… for the memory of Lottie and Angela."

"Yes, but…"

"If you want to talk to somebody," she continued, barely hearing his complaints, "I could organize a meeting with the departmental psychologist. I'm sure Minelli would agree-"

"No, no shrinks."

"You could find it really beneficial though. It's obvious you need to talk to somebody…"

"Then what are we doing now?"

"I meant somebody qualified."

"Eh, they just spout a load of nonsense and get paid far too much to do so."

"But this is not normal."

"What's not normal, Teresa? A father grieving for his dead daughter? Of course it's not normal, what's normal about that?"

"There's no need to lash out at me. I'm trying to help you."

"You're going a funny way about it."

"Just… just give it a little more thought. Please?"

"Fine."

She knew that he wouldn't consider it any longer, but Lisbon nodded in response and decided that she could always bring it up again later. Looking back down at her cereal, she realized she had suddenly completely lost her appetite. It didn't surprise her; she had only been eating it because, before her untimely death, her mother had drummed it into her that breakfast was the most important meal of the day. Nobody deserved to die young, not her Mom, not Angela and most certainly not Charlotte. What with Jane being in a petulant mood, it seemed like the long day ahead was only going to get painfully longer.

"And you're going to the funeral."

"But..."

"No buts. If you don't go, you'll regret it for the rest of your life and I can't let that happen."

xxx

The vicar was droning on about what an asset to society Angela Ruskin-Jane had been.

Lisbon couldn't help but think, for the first time, that she shouldn't be there. She wasn't welcome. Angela most certainly wouldn't have wanted her there; the few moments when they had been in the same room had always been filled with a hostile tension. Besides, she was Jane's mistress, in competition with Angela for her husband's affections and the woman had probably known it all too well. Her affections for Charlotte were somewhat more justified, yet probably not enough for her to attend without guilt.

It certainly didn't help that Danny kept shooting her filthy looks across the room.

Maybe he knew as well. Perhaps his sister had discussed her suspicions with him before she died? It was also entirely possible that he had no clue and was just blaming her for not having caught his sister and niece's killer yet. As if a week had been far too long and she and her team had been doing nothing but sitting on their backsides. If he knew they'd been working relentlessly and just how elusive Red John was, he may have been more sympathetic. Probably not, but it was nice to think so anyway.

Especially as his vitriol was beginning to bug her. She felt out of place enough as it was without him adding to it.

She watched as Danny took to the altar.

Time seemed to be dragging slower and slower. Lisbon glanced at her watch, almost believing that the thing was going backwards instead of forwards. When she looked back up, she breathed a sigh of relief. Danny had taken to the stand; some progress, at last. As he addressed the congregation, she wished once more that she could escape. His words were relatively well chosen, but she couldn't help but see them as personal attacks. The way he singled out the CBI's efforts into finding and capturing Red John and their failure to do so simply reminded her of the mammoth task still ahead of them. Besides, Jane should have had a chance to have his say. They were _his_ family; Charlotte was his daughter. The fact that he hadn't been asked to make a speech was evidence of just how little Danny and Jane thought of one another.

She looked over to Jane, who had his eyes screwed tightly shut. He didn't look like he was in the right state of mind to say anything anyway, so it was probably for the best. Besides, if he wasn't careful, he might risk offending most of the people present. It wasn't well known that he knew that psychics were fraudulent, but it was possible he might let it slip during a moment like this. He was obviously very emotionally vulnerable and justifiably so. Anyone would be in such a situation.

She covered Jane's hand, which rested lightly on her leg, with her own and squeezed it gently. It was as if he couldn't get through the farce of a ceremony without physically touching her somehow. Like he needed her support literally to just get through it. She wouldn't leave though; wouldn't just slip out the door and get a breath of fresh air. Jane had asked her to come with him for a reason and she wasn't about to let him down. Not when she had promised and definitely not when she had practically forced him to attend.

Jane's hand suddenly moved from her leg.

She glanced up the aisle. He was already opening the door and getting ready to flee.

xxx

"I see you've brought _her_ along to my funeral."

"You should be more grateful. Without her, I'd never have bothered coming. And she has a name, you know."

"And? Why should I give the slut who was screwing my husband any respect? It's not as if she gave me any."

"Well, maybe if you had been more of a wife, I wouldn't have felt the need to seek solace in another woman's arms."

"Whatever," Angela's tone was particularly steely this time around and Jane wasn't at all fazed by that. "I wonder what everybody else would think if they knew my killer was in this very room. I wonder what _she _would think."

"That's…"

"That's what? None of my business? Out of my power? Oh**,** but you're the one convinced that all this isn't real, aren't you?"

"It's all in my head. You're in my head. There's no such thing as…"

"There's no such thing as the paranormal. No such thing as psychics. I know. I've heard it all before. I've had to endure such utter nonsense from you for _years_."

"Then why hasn't it sunk in?"

"Maybe because you might be wrong. Maybe because I might just be able to tell your lovely whore that you kill-"

"No, no. Not yet, Angela. Let's give Mr. Jane more time to squirm, shall we? The best part of any hunt is the chase."

"You?"

"Yes, me, Mr. Jane. Did you think that now you're out of hospital I'd leave you alone? How naïve. It's almost sweet, don't you think?"

"Not really, no," Angela piped up, looking irritable. "I'm getting bored of this cat and mouse game."

"Mr. Jane? A word of warning," Red John continued, acting as if he had never heard Angela speak. "Soon, I'm going to start haunting your reality too. It's not just mind games I'm wanting to play…"

"No. I won't let you do that."

"But how will you stop it? You can't escape from destiny."

"You can if you haven't anything else to lose," he replied darkly.

xxx

When she stood, Lisbon felt the whole congregation's eyes fixate on her.

She blushed furiously. How the hell did Jane manage to slip out without anybody else realizing, but when she tried to leave everybody noticed the disturbance? After some hurried apologies, she rushed to the door to try and catch up with him.

Lisbon frowned when she saw he had already made it across the busy road and was climbing up the fire escape of the opposite building.

He didn't seem to be like himself. Not even like he had been since the death of his family. Somehow, he seemed more manic, more desperate. Like something had just clicked in his mind and was making him act completely recklessly.

Why the hell did he feel the need to climb up a horrendously tall building? He wasn't going to….

She shook her head and chased after him.

Running and especially climbing a rickety metal staircase proved to be more difficult than usual. Then again, this was the first time since the accident that she had actually made any physical exertion. Usually, she ran regularly, but Lisbon had been using the broken arm as an excuse to avoid it. She cursed under her breath as she realized just how difficult it was to run with a plaster cast but tried to put it aside and focus on catching up with Jane.

When she reached the top, he was already standing at the edge. Both of them were a little out of breath and Jane doubled over, seeming to have developed a stitch. Lisbon was relieved though. He hadn't done anything stupid.

Yet.

But there was still time for that, unfortunately. It was her job to stop it from happening.

"Patrick!"

Jane spun on the spot when she called his name and briefly allowed his eyes to settle on her.

He hadn't expected her to follow; why should she? They were at a funeral and though she hadn't been close to Angela, she had cared about Charlotte. Besides, leaving part**-**way through was disrespectful and Lisbon always liked to do what was expected of her.

Then again, she was in love. Jane knew that all too well. He recognized the expression she wore whenever she looked at him, unless she was mad as hell with him for one reason or another. But the rest of the time…

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"They won't stop, Teresa. They won't leave me alone. Why won't they leave me alone?"

She took a step forward.

"Who won't?" she whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear over the roar of traffic beneath them.

"Angela. Red John."

"Red John?"

"This is the only way to end it."

"What are you talking about?"

Jane ignored her, trying desperately to block out the hurt evident in her voice. Instead, he focused on his actions and turned to face the sheer drop. He'd almost forgotten about her when he left the church; he was too busy trying to run away from them. From his family, from the serial killer who plagued his thoughts, both conscious and when he was asleep. How could he do that, when Lisbon had been one of the few things he'd been living for lately? For longer than the past week, even. Saint Teresa, the papers had nicknamed her once, much to her humiliation. If only she knew just how much a saint she really was. While she was relentlessly optimistic when it came to her work, Lisbon was such a pessimist when it came to her own life. She always saw the worst in every situation she found herself in.

But was she enough?What he'd done, if she ever found out, it would destroy his life. Pretty much destroy hers as well. She'd already had her heart broken in so many ways, this was the last thing she deserved. There was no doubt in his mind that she deserved somebody better.

Less callous.

Less manipulative.

Less cruel.

She deserved a decent human being, somebody who would be proud to say he was in a relationship with her. Not somebody who had to hide it away in the shadows, as if it were something to be ashamed of. Someone who made her feel loved and cherished rather than just a dirty little secret.

And she definitely didn't deserve to find out the one man who she accidentally allowed herself to fall in love with was a murderer.

That was something he should take to the grave; for her sake as much as his own.

It would be better if he were dead.

His foot dangled dangerously over the precipice.

**TBC…**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I thought it a little cruel to leave you on that cliffhanger for too long. Besides, I'm making good progress on my Skins Big Bang fic now.

Thank you to: watchyouwalk, Kaslyna, Famous4it and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part eight and to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Nine**

"He's going to jump!"

The service was over and people were already standing outside, just milling around before moving on to the wake. That meant the congregation had exited the church just in time to see the grieving husband attempt to commit suicide.

Lisbon didn't need the anguished call to tell her what was happening. In fact, she barely heard it. She was too busy focusing on Jane, trying desperately to work out what his next move was going to be. Half of her was convinced that he couldn't really be suicidal, that it was just the stress of the situation making him act in an extreme manner. The other half wasn't so sure. Had she ever really known what he was thinking half the time? Even though she had been in a relationship with him for a good six months now, it didn't mean she was actually any closer to understanding him. He was one of the oddest men she knew and usually, she wouldn't have it any other way. Right now, however, with him threatening to jump, she wished he could be a little more normal.

However, while she wasn't distracted by the call, Jane was. He froze and Lisbon took the opportunity to wrap an arm around his waist and wrestle him away from the edge. Despite her petite stature, she was considerably stronger than he was. She had to be, if she wanted to make it in her career. It was moments like this when she was grateful for all the hard work she put in; it made it seem like she actually did make a difference instead of simply being a pencil pusher.

He stilled a little and Lisbon allowed herself to relax slightly. It wasn't the most sensible way to stop somebody from jumping off a tall building - he could quite easily have taken them both over had he reacted faster - but at least it worked. Only problem was that she now had to get him back down to ground level safely. Then, and somewhat more importantly, she had to work out the best course of action to deal with him. Jane tried to pull away again, to inch towards the precipice. She tightened her grip around his waist once more and remained rooted to the spot.

"We're going to get you some help."

"No."

"I'm serious."

"Teresa…"

"Don't 'Teresa' me," she muttered irritably. "You need to talk to someone."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"If you stop me…"

"You'll do what?"

Jane fell silent, considering how to react. As she waited for him to respond, Lisbon decided he was a danger to himself. A danger to others, too; she was fairly certain he was thinking about threatening her for getting involved. When somebody wasn't thinking straight, threats could quite easily change into something more. She had seen it all too many times in her line of work, over far less than what had just happened between them. Families torn apart by pathetic arguments; lovers maiming and killing one another over little disagreements.

She didn't want to do this, least of all to him. However, as a law enforcement officer, she had the right to determine that he was in need of an urgent psychiatric evaluation. The last thing she really wanted to do was attempting to get him involuntarily confined, but she was beginning to run out of viable options. It was becoming more and more obvious that Jane needed help. He had admitted to her that he was hallucinating, that he imagined Red John and Angela were stalking him. He had just threatened to kill himself. They had been lucky, so far. Next time, they wouldn't necessarily be so lucky. She didn't have the time to constantly be watching his back and to make sure he stayed safe. Besides, she wasn't trained to do that either. There were people she knew who were more than qualified to step in in these kind of situations.

They'd be able to help where she could not.

"Let's just get down from here, okay? I'm cold and we're getting wet."

Jane glanced at the sky, as if he had only just noticed that it was actually raining. He then looked at her and seemed to note just how worried she was. Eventually, he nodded slightly and Lisbon let out the breath she hadn't even realized she'd been holding. Slowly, carefully, she guided them back to the staircase and downstairs. Lisbon was aware that his fragile state of mind could mean he suddenly had a change of heart.

The crowd below fell silent as they emerged, unsure how to react to what had just happened. A couple of people murmured indistinctly, others started clapping at her achievement, but Lisbon ignored them all. Instead, she headed towards one of the guests, a man she knew was a local Sheriff. They'd had to deal with him on occasion and usually, he was more than happy to help the CBI. She hadn't realized that Sheriff Jackson was close to the Jane family, but at that moment, she was more relieved than anything. Jackson could be trusted to keep Jane in check while she called for backup, which was more than could be said for most of the other guests.

As she walked away, she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and immediately dialed a familiar number. While waiting for an answer, she tapped her foot irritably. Cho hadn't called to inform her that they had a break, that they were out of the office**,** so there was no reason why he should be taking so long to answer.

When he eventually did, she didn't even give him chance to explain. She didn't have time to be social.

"Cho, I need you to bring me a 5150, then drive me and Jane to the Sacramento Mental Health Center. It's urgent."

"What's happened?"

"Jane has."

It wasn't much of an explanation, but Cho didn't ask her to elaborate. From his limited exposure to the supposed psychic, he already knew that if Jane was involved, it normally meant something crazy and inconceivable had happened.

"Where are you?"

She told him, immediately put down the phone and started to call another number. Cho only took ten minutes to get there, arriving barely seconds after Lisbon had finished her second telephone call. Together, along with the help of Jackson, they wrestled Jane into the backseat of the car. Jane was typically stubborn and his reactions didn't help. It just made Lisbon feel all the more guilty for treating him this way, regardless of how much he obviously needed it.

"Please, just do this. For me?"

xxx

"Dr. Miller," Lisbon said, addressing the woman as she approached her.

"Teresa, please. Call me Sophie."

"Thank you for answering at such short notice."

"My pleasure. You said you need an evaluation for somebody?"

"Patrick? This is Doctor Miller, Sophie," she said, immediately correcting herself before motioning to the dark haired woman standing beside her. "We've worked together on occasion. And… and she's one of the best psychiatric doctors I know."

"Hello, Patrick. I may call you Patrick?"

Sophie Miller proffered a hand for Jane to shake but he ignored it. He didn't even respond to Sophie's question and instead took to staring at Lisbon. It was almost as if he were blaming her for the situation. As if he thought it were her fault that all this had happened. She shook her head and tried to dispel the thoughts. Assuming that Jane was thinking the worst of her wasn't going to get her anywhere. It was unproductive and only going to make her feel worse.

Instead, she would simply have to focus on whatever results Sophie gathered from her evaluation. Then, she could see where they could go from there.

"If you could come with me? I have a few questions I'd like you to answer."

Jane only responded by looking warily at Lisbon. It was almost as if he was only half aware what was going on. He seemed to have taken an immediate childlike distrust to Sophie and Lisbon felt her heart sinking. It wasn't exactly a positive signal, especially considering Jane usually had a warm reaction to most people. Lisbon nodded gently and wordlessly indicated that he should go with Sophie. Grudgingly, he followed her away, leaving Lisbon alone in the waiting room, with only her thoughts and some paperwork for company.

She had already finished filling in the 5150 form. Technically, she knew it should have been filled in before she had taken him to Sophie, but they had rushed to get him here before he did any more damage. Yet again, time seemed to be going backwards, just like at the church service. The plastic formed chair was horribly uncomfortable and Lisbon wondered why the hell hospitals never bothered to invest in more appropriate seating. Without fail, they almost always seemed to supply furniture which would be more suited to a classroom. She banged the back of her heard against the wall behind a couple of times out of sheer frustration and boredom. Of all the places she wanted to be right now, this was near the bottom of her list. Somewhat awkwardly, she pulled up her sleeve and glanced at her watch. Really, she should have been back at work by now.

She sighed.

It was looking less and less likely that Red John would be caught this time around. The case had already been open for too long for him to re-emerge again. Yet again, they had failed. They still didn't have the answers that the families of the victims desperately needed.

The answers that she herself craved.

Impatiently, she looked at her watch again. Barely two minutes had passed. Lisbon didn't envy Sophie's job. Though she was a skilled interrogator, carrying out tests to determine somebody's sanity (or lack thereof) seemed so much more daunting. The whole of Jane's future hinged on this one result. She wasn't even sure what she wanted it to be. If he was declared sane, she had forced him here for no reason. Put him through additional stress during a period of his life which was already harrowing for many reasons. Completely misjudged the situation and overreacted.

If he needed involuntary commitment, however…

The door swung open and Sophie strode towards Lisbon.

She was wearing a particularly dour expression.

"Teresa?"

"Yes?"

"Come back tomorrow; this is going to take a little more time. We've still got another…" she paused to glance at her watch. "Sixty-eight hours until the 5150 runs out."

"But…"

"There's no point in wasting your time. Go home and get some rest. You look like you need it."

xxx

Lisbon received a call from Sophie thirteen hours before the 5150 was due to expire.

She had been right.

According to Sophie's diagnosis, Jane _was_ losing it.

Lisbon didn't know whether to be relieved or horrified. The fact that somebody who had seemed so confident in himself could spiral into insanity so quickly seemed almost inconceivable. Yet, it had happened. She tried to think of the positives: that Jane would hopefully get the help he desperately needed, that her judgment was sound, that she had been right in this instance. That wasn't enough to comfort her; in some ways she'd have preferred to have been wrong. At least then she wouldn't be losing the Jane she loved to something as devastating as a mental illness.

Sophie had offered him voluntary admission and unsurprisingly, he'd refused. That meant more stress, more paperwork and more hassle for everybody involved. She stared at the form in front of her, the 5250, with tears slowly beginning to cloud her vision and Lisbon grew frustrated. The form needed filling in fast; otherwise, Jane would have to be released. She couldn't let that happen, for his sake. The whole situation just seemed absurd to the extreme. Why the hell did life have to be so complicated? Why did Jane have to receive such a blow when he was already dealing with so many problems?Why did she always have to get herself so inexplicably involved?

Another doctor was due to assess Jane's mental standing imminently. He'd probably fail, again, based on the little Sophie had felt obliged to tell her. She couldn't say all that much - on the grounds of doctor-patient confidentiality - but had informed Lisbon enough to allow her to paint a clear picture of what was going on. Only after that, and at least one hearing, would they be able to involuntarily confine him. Then, he could finally get the help he so clearly needed.

If only he had been able to see sense. To accept the voluntary admission. Then, all this hassle could be easily avoided. Instead, he just had to go about it the long and hard way. She shouldn't have expected anything less of Jane.

Lisbon eventually focused and ignored as many distractions as possible. In a little over an hour, the form was filled in and Cho was delivering it to the correct authorities.

Now, she had a little time to focus on Red John again before anything else. Lisbon silently hoped it would be an ideal distraction from the impending hearing, in three days' time. She couldn't imagine Jane accepting to go willingly, even after a second opinion. It seemed like an age since she had last looked at the notes. In reality, it had only been just over twenty four hours. Not much had changed. Rigsby had found a link between Angela and one of Red John's previous victims; they were both registered to the same gynecologist. It was a feeble link, but better than nothing. At least it provided them with something to investigate.

Lisbon jumped when the telephone rang shrilly. Hurriedly, she scooped up the receiver and pressed it firmly to her ear.

"Teresa? It's Sophie."

"What's happened?"

"He failed the second assessment."

"That was quick," she answered, somewhat surprised that they already had results from the second test. "I thought he would."

"He rejected voluntary admission again."

Lisbon nodded. "That doesn't surprise me."

"Me either. You know, he is probably going to demand a writ of habeas corpus after the hearing."

She tapped the fingers of her broken arm against the desk and winced at the sudden shot of pain.

"That just means we'll have two and it'll take longer. Unless the county public defender rejects the claim."

"How likely is that?"

"Fairly. They're snowed under."

"Aren't they always?"

"Good point. Look, I better…"

"Yeah. Take care, Dr. Miller."

"_Sophie_. We've known each other long enough."

"Fine, Sophie, then. Thank you."

With a heavy sigh, Lisbon placed the receiver back down and rested her head on the desk. She took a moment to pull herself back together before picking it back and dialing the number of the gynecologist.

There was nothing she could do for Jane right now, but she could still try and find out who the hell killed his family.

**TBC…**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** So, I'm trying to update with a cat on my lap as well as my laptop. That's always good fun. Good job Zara's pretty cute though. Also, I thought I should give people a head's up. As some of you may know, in two weeks, I'll be going to hospital for surgery. I don't know how long I'll be in for, but updating this will probably be interrupted. So, I'm sorry in advance. Especially so as I've just managed to get into the routine of actually updating again.

Thank you to: watchyouwalk, Kaslyna, Jisbon4ever and Famous4it for reviewing part nine. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Ten**

Apprehensively, she smoothed down her skirt as she sat down on the bench. Lisbon hated court days. They always seemed to take longer than was entirely necessary. Time when she could actually be doing her job; catching criminals who thought they could get away with murder - literally. This time, she was here to give evidence in a psychiatric hearing against Jane. Even if she wasn't, she would have attended anyway. She would have wanted to hear what was going to be happening to Jane first-hand. For many reasons, but principally because she loved him and felt responsible for his fate. Not that she could really have changed what had happened. She didn't have any control over that and could only really deal with the fall-out. It didn't stop her from questioning her every decision, her every reaction.

Maybe she should have sent him for a psych test as soon as she had questioned his mental state. Before he'd even left the hospital after the accident. If he had gone then, then maybe the whole debacle would have been nipped in the bud and they wouldn't be considering institutionalizing Jane against his own will. Then again, they wouldn't have been there at all if he had even realized he had a problem himself instead of being adamant that he was fine despite trying to throw himself off of a tall building.

When things eventually got underway, Lisbon found herself dozing off a little. She hadn't been sleeping well over the past couple of days and unsurprisingly so. There was too much going on and she was finding it impossible to wind down at night. It was little wonder that her concentration levels were waning, even if it was happening at an inappropriate time. She had spent so much time constantly thinking about the hearing. What could happen, what _should_ happen. The repercussions it would have on the future, on them. The whole situation just seemed like a sorry mess and the sooner she had some answers, the better.

Evidence seemed to merge into another and one specialist quickly replaced another. Lisbon tried to concentrate on what they said, especially so when Sophie took to the stand. Everything the woman said was stuff she already knew about. They were the things the psychiatrist had already discussed with her over the telephone. A couple more details here and there, but essentially nothing new. It would be her turn soon. They would ask her questions, inquire as to how she knew Jane, how much he'd changed in such a short period of time. Ask why she thought he required medical intervention. She shook slightly and felt a hand cover her own. Lisbon turned a little to face Virgil Minelli, not sure whether or not to be grateful that he had decided to attend as well. Jane was only a part-time consultant for the CBI, but Minelli still deemed the hearing of interest to the bureau. It didn't matter how many hours he worked, he was still one of their employees. The small act of comfort was welcoming but she also knew he was about to hear the truth about her relationship with Jane.

About their infidelity.

Their lies.

The fact that she had willingly compromised her principles for a man.

She'd thought he'd realized earlier and been relieved when she discovered he hadn't. Now, it was going to come out either way and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. Except lie, but then she would be compromising Jane's future simply to protect herself. That wouldn't be fair on him. Besides, lying in court could have disastrous consequences, even in a small hearing, not to mention that it would be breaking the laws she vowed to uphold as well. As she took the stand, she was visibly shaking. She tried to look anywhere but at Minelli as she answered the questions the best she could. Somehow, her eyes were repeatedly drawn to him. The hurt was evident in his eyes and the nagging sense of guilt returned tenfold. She was a fool; she should have said no when Jane offered to take her out on a date. Certainly shouldn't have dragged him back home and let it go even further than that. Then, she wouldn't be in this mess. She'd just be a concerned friend, not an ashamed lover.

It didn't take long for them to come to a conclusion after she had offered her thoughts. It was almost inevitable that they were going to agree with her immediate decision. That Jane needed help, even if he didn't believe he did. He was hallucinating, threatening to kill himself and possibly hurt others. If they didn't do anything now, there could be terrible consequences in the future.

For the first time in the whole debacle, Jane went along with it willingly. Lisbon was relieved. She didn't know if she could personally handle going through yet another hearing if he had demanded one. All she wanted to do was go home, sleep and pretend the world and all of its issues simply didn't exist until she had the energy to face them again.

She certainly didn't want the inevitable talk with Minelli either.

But at least it was over. Jane would finally get the help he so desperately needed and therefore, they might actually have a chance in the future.

Maybe.

A lot had happened between them. Possibly too much.

She would know more when they actually got there.

xxx

"Oh poor, poor Mr. Jane. Locked up in the loony bin, as if he's insane."

"Go away."

"Why, because I'm bothering you? Or because you think it'll get you out of here quicker."

"Both, preferably."

"You really think that nice Dr. Miller will be able to silence me? Really?"

"I don't know. I know that Teresa hopes so."

"Teresa, Teresa. You really think she'll be waiting for you after this?"

"She loves me."

"That she would be happy to spend her life with an unpredictable madman?" Red John continued, ignoring Jane's protestations.

"When they say I'm cured…"

"You could always have a relapse. It does happen, more frequently than you think."

"I'll be fine. I _am_ fine."

"How can you say that when you're seeing people who aren't actually there?"

He took a step forward, to illustrate his point and allowed a finger to reach out and graze his temple.

Jane automatically lashed out, flailing desperately with his fists. Though he kept in reasonable shape, he didn't classify himself as being athletic. Usually, he thought Lisbon was insane for being so insistent on exercising. Now, he wished that he actually accepted her offers to join her for regular runs and visits to the gym. Or rather, he could finally see a practical purpose for it. He felt triumphant when his hand connected with something, presumably a nose. Within half a minute, he was pinned down. Red John had somehow managed to get back up, obviously having expected resistance from him.

Seconds later, he was unconscious.

xxx

When he came around, Sophie was standing opposite him, just staring.

Scrutinizing him.

Making opinions based on nothingness.

Deciding his fate.

Jane didn't like that. Usually, when people gazed at him, as part of a captive audience, they were awestruck. Amazed. He was the one in control of them, not vice versa. This strange woman, who Lisbon had insisted was a good doctor, probably wouldn't listen to a word he had to say.

She thought he was insane.

Like everyone else did. Simply because that was the conclusion she and another doctor had decided on, with the judicial system's support.

Bastards, the lot of them.

After all he had done for them, after all the criminals he had helped them catch, this was how they repaid him. By telling him he'd lost it and locking him up in some loony bin. Just because he had cracked under pressure and briefly entertained the thoughts of suicide. He probably wouldn't have gone through with it; he didn't have the courage to actually take his own life. It was strange how something which many people deemed as being a weakness actually required a considerable amount of nerve.

Besides, they didn't even know the half of the problems he was currently facing.

He knew Sophie would try. She'd prod and pry and attempt to get him to open up about Angela and Charlotte's murders. The psychiatrist would probably assume he was ashamed that he had been cheating on his wife at the time of her death. Or, that he was repressing something due to misplaced guilt over not being able to protect them from Red John or something.

Except, the guilt wasn't misplaced. It was entirely justified.

Their blood was on his hands. It didn't matter that it was self-defense. He'd still killed Angela and worst of all, his poor daughter had gotten caught in the cross-fire. Two people whom he was meant to protect and they were now dead. It didn't matter what he'd felt for Angela, it was the principle of the matter.

Like it was this doctor**'**s duty to protect him from harm while he was in her care.

She hadn't done any good earlier. Somehow, a serial killer had slipped through their defenses and managed to attack him. Knocked him unconscious. Could have killed him too. Why he hadn't actually managed to kill him was a mystery, something he would have to figure out by himself. When Sophie left him in peace.

Maybe when his mind was a little clearer too.

Somebody, whether it was Red John or Sophie he couldn't be sure, had obviously given him some drugs. Something which had slowed his mind down, made everything a little foggier and the connections harder to make. It felt like he was clutching at straws, hoping to make some great revelation, only for him to fall completely short of target.

This was a complete and utter disaster.

He needed to be thinking straight, to be able to get out of this in one piece. If he landed up in some drug-induced hysteria, who knew what secrets he would accidentally reveal. There wasn't just the fact that he was a murderer. There were his father's shady dealings, the crimes that he'd witnessed people commit on the carnival circuit, backstage misdemeanors of high profile celebrities which he had accidentally been exposed to and more besides.

Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep again. It was safer that way. There was no risk that his loosened tongue would say things that he didn't want it to.

However, it looked like Sophie had other plans. She smiled genially at him and Jane shuddered. He didn't care what Lisbon had said about her, he didn't trust her. Besides, he wasn't even sure he could trust Lisbon herself anymore. She had conspired against him to get him in here. She was the one who made the decision to bring him to Sophie in the first place.

It was her signature on the documentation that eventually led to him being institutionalized involuntarily.

Jane scowled as Sophie took a step closer.

"So, what are we to do with you, Patrick?"

xxx

"So," Minelli started as he eyed Lisbon. "You and Mr. Jane, huh?"

"I'm sorry, Boss… I never meant for it to…"

He held up a hand and silenced her immediately. Lisbon bit her tongue and glanced at the ground, waiting patiently for him to say his piece. She quickly decided it was probably better that they were getting this talk over and done with. It would stop it from looming over them and getting in the way of their work. At least it was out in the open. No more secrets and lies. Stuff like that could have dire consequences in the CBI. They had to know they could trust each other. She could only hope that he would realize she was still a competent agent. That what had happened between her and Jane had no effect whatsoever on the quality of her work. As far as she was concerned, she would support him in whatever he needed her to. Silently, she wished that he would be able to reciprocate those feelings.

"I don't want to hear it."

"But…"

"Whatever you do with your personal life, whoever you choose to date, however inappropriate that may be, it's got nothing to do with me," he said and she let out the breath she had been holding. "Provided they don't work…"

"Jane was our consultant. I was his boss and I…"

"Exactly. He was just a consultant, attached to the CBI, not working directly _for_ us. You're an agent, he's not. I'm well aware of that loop-hole and that technically, you weren't doing anything wrong."

"If I could change…."

"No**,** you wouldn't," Minelli said, interrupting her. "You wouldn't change a damn thing about your past with Jane because you love him. I'll be honest though: I had hoped you'd have better judgment. A married man, Teresa?"

"I know. I'm not proud of what I've done."

"Did you have any involvement in the murders of Angela Ruskin-Jane and her daughter?"

Lisbon stared at him, mouth agape. Given the circumstances, she knew she shouldn't have been surprised that he asked. However, she couldn't deny that it hurt either. She wasn't a cold-blooded killer. The only time she had pulled a trigger on somebody was on the job, to protect another agent. Regardless of her relationship with Jane, she wouldn't have physically hurt Angela, never mind Charlotte.

"What? No. Why do you ask?"

"I'm well aware that you and your team suspect that it may possibly be a copycat. You know the Red John case back to front, inside out. There's not many people who could do it, but you could recreate a Red John crime scene with ease."

"I have an alibi. Cho's already cleared it."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'll ask him for the documentation later."

They fell into an uneasy silence. Lisbon hated it; Minelli was the father figure she had never had. She felt like she had let him down and all she wanted to do was apologize. However, he didn't care, he didn't want to hear it. She felt ashamed, like she was being shunned. Like there was absolutely nothing she could do to repair the damage she had caused. Minelli wouldn't even look at her, had turned around and taken to staring out of the window. If only it was possible to read minds. She would love to know exactly what he was thinking.

"You need a break."

"I'm sorry?"

"A vacation, a few days off."

"I know what a break is."

"You've had a busy couple of weeks, what with Red John, the accident and the Jane debacle. I think you need some time away from here, to reassess everything. You're running yourself into the ground and that's not going to help anybody, least of all yourself."

"But what about my team? You'll need time to find a temporary replacement…"

"It's already sorted. The temporary replacement is already on his way to Sacramento."

"But…"

"It**'**s only going to be a month."

"A month?"

"It'll go by quicker than you expect it will," he continued, unperturbed by her outburst. "Besides, it will provide my new agent with some excellent experience before he heads up his own team."

"Right. Thank you, I guess."

"One more thing, Teresa? When you come back, the Red John case will no longer be yours."

**TBC…**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N:** Finale time for me tonight. Very excited about that! Still mostly spoiler free, so it's all good.

Thank you to: Famous4it, watchyouwalk and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part ten. Also to ch19777, as always, for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Eleven**

Lisbon settled back in her chair and lifted the latte to her mouth. For half a second, she inhaled the rich scent before sipping at it. She gazed out across the river, feeling relaxed for the first time in months. When Minelli had told her she was having a mandatory leave, she had been horrified and upset. Finally, after two weeks into her break, she realized that her boss' intervention had genuinely been for the best. He had been right; a lot had happened to her lately. Stronger people had cracked under that kind of pressure - Jane's hospitalization was testament to that. If she hadn't been careful, or if Minelli hadn't taken action, she could quite easily have followed him to the mental institution.

She sighed heavily. During her vacation, she had taken the opportunity to start straightening out her house. It provided her with an ideal distraction from everything that had been going on lately, especially as she didn't have work to focus on. Minelli hadn't even allowed her to take home some notes on her other open cases to study while on leave. The house seemed like an endless task though and there were still boxes she was yet to unpack. They mainly contained pieces from her childhood, items she had inherited from her parents. Part of her didn't really mind leaving them hidden away; her youth hadn't exactly been the most positive and she didn't need to be actively reminded of those specific nightmares. Especially not when she had to deal with all manner of problems in her line of work. There was only so much grief a person could deal with at any one time.

Unfortunately, having mostly dealt with her home, that meant she was finally having to face the daunting task of sorting herself out. So much had changed in such a short space of time. Minelli's perception of her had been completely shattered and Lisbon knew that it was going to take a while to rebuild that respect and trust. Her job had also been turned upside down. She wouldn't be able to ask Jane for his opinion, or use his tricks to help wheedle out a confession on particularly challenging cases anymore. When she returned, Minelli would probably have finally hired that rookie he had been promising her for months on end as well. Then, there was the loss of the Red John case. To say that she wasn't bitterly disappointed would have been an understatement. She could understand why he had taken it away from her. She lacked experience compared to the other senior agents and she _was_ getting too close to the case. However, she had always hoped she would be the one supplying the answers to the eight families of the victims of Red John. Apart from her very recent doubts, she had always thought herself more than capable of bringing the serial killer to justice.

Then there was Jane.

She knew she loved him. Or rather, she had loved the man she had known before his breakdown. He challenged her, frustrated her, entertained her, made her want to hit her head against a brick wall repeatedly, made her smile. He had even managed to help her improve some of her skills as a cop. If somebody had told her that when she had just left the academy, she would have laughed in their face. What could a law enforcement officer learn from a fake psychic who flagrantly disobeyed rules in order to find the answers in his own way?

However, there were no guarantees that she would get him back. The mind was a fragile and complex thing. Something she only understood vaguely; just enough to be able to tell when a killer was telling her a bare-faced lie or to manipulate a guilty man into confessing to a crime he'd committed. But to understand what facets really made somebody themselves was beyond her. Probably beyond Dr. Miller as well, though she had more of a chance of understanding it than she herself did. Sophie had been entirely honest with her the last time they discussed Jane's fate. She was hopeful that he would make a full recovery, but couldn't make any promises. Nor could she guarantee a time frame, either. Medicine simply didn't work like that.

She couldn't waste her whole life waiting, hoping, for something that might never happen.

But equally, could she desert a sick man when he seemed to need her the most?

Was it fair for her to take the decision out of his hands entirely?

Should she try and ask him? Was enough of him left around to be able to make such a decision?

Would cutting him out of her life ease the heartache she was currently suffering from or would it simply make it worse?

Why did the whole matter have to be so complicated?

Lisbon rested her head on the metallic table and tried to refocus. Maybe the answers would seem a little clearer later on. This wasn't a situation where she could just have the solution immediately to hand. It was too complicated for that. Really, she needed somebody understanding to talk to, to help her straighten out things in her mind as well as to get it off her chest.

"Hello, stranger."

She knew that voice. Looking up, she broke out into a small smile.

"Sam?"

"I thought I recognized you over there," Bosco said, reciprocating her smile. "Can I join you for a drink?"

xxx

Sophie glanced at the wall and her heart sank.

She had thought she could trust him with a glass tumbler. His test results showed that he wasn't quite as far gone as he could have been. Jane still had some sense of self, which was more than could be said for some of her other patients. Then again, Lisbon had been adamant that he knew how to manipulate people to get what he wanted. Not enough for him to have passed the tests, but enough for it to not look as bad as it actually was. Sophie didn't like that; it made her job more difficult. How was she supposed to know when he was telling the truth and when he was pulling the wool over her eyes? She was here to help him and just wished that he would acknowledge that rather than resisting every step of the way.

Carefully, she opened the door and locked it firmly behind her.

What a mess.

Shards of glass were scattered across the floor, with one particularly large one covered in blood. The smiley face on the wall leered back down at her and Sophie shuddered. Briefly, she wondered what it must have been like for Jane, walking into his family home and seeing a real Red John smiley face staring back at him. The horror, the dread, knowing what you were about to see when you finally tore your gaze from the wall and actually dared to look at the floor. Seeing the people you cared about the most butchered, like animals taken to a slaughterhouse. What it must have been like for the cops who faced it time and time again, being reminded of the failure each and every time they did so. Helping people get better seemed so much less daunting than that.

"Oh Patrick, what are we going to do with you?"

He was huddled up in the corner, physically shaking. His right hand was clenched firmly over his left forearm as he attempted desperately to stem the blood flow. Sophie was certain that it looked significantly worse than it actually was; like he had spent some time actively encouraging the blood to rise to the skin's surface. The ashen look on his face suggested he hadn't even realized what he was doing to himself.

"Red John… he was here. He…."

"Red John isn't here, Patrick. You're alone."

"He tried to kill me!"

"You haven't had any visitors. The log states that-"

"I don't care what your fucking log says," he snapped back with a snarl and proffered his arm underneath her nose. "Now tell me that I haven't had any visitors!"

Sophie had to take a step back to stop him from actually hitting her again. The bruises on her shins and arms from when she had to physically restrain him two weeks ago were only just beginning to fade. He had been in the middle of a hysterical fit, then. It was another one of those moments when he had been convinced that Red John was in the room with him, trying to hurt and maim him. Instead, it was just her and a couple of orderlies, but he hadn't been physically capable of recognizing them. It was worrying her just how little progress he was making. If anything, he was regressing rather than taking steps forward. She didn't expect miracles; she had been in the business for long enough not to hope people would be cured over night. But he had been on medication for enough time for it to start to have some effect. She'd have to look into alternatives; his reactions to his supposed Red John victims were getting more and more violent. It could be possible that he was having an adverse reaction to the drugs they were administering.

"Okay, okay. Let's get you cleaned up and you can tell me about it."

His entire hand was caked in blood, but that didn't stop him from launching into a fast description of the supposed attack. Jane certainly wasn't lost for words; though Sophie knew from what Lisbon had told her about him that that was something out of character for him. If faced with a problem, Jane tended to bottle it up and work out the solution on his own. The very fact that he had just opened up completely to her didn't fit with what he was like before his breakdown. Though he seemed happy enough to accept her help to clean up the wound, it didn't stop him from lacing his words with malice. Jane actively blamed her for his injuries, stating that it was a dereliction of duty. Sophie knew that he was right; though his story was completely nonsensical, she shouldn't have supplied him something he could injure himself with.

That was entirely her fault.

For some reason, she became convinced that Jane was going to cause her nothing but trouble.

xxx

"So," Lisbon started as Bosco settled down opposite her with his own cup of coffee. "What brings you to Sacramento?"

"Work."

"Work? You haven't started working for the Feebs, have you?"

Bosco smirked at her obvious distaste of the FBI. Clearly, there was still no love lost between the two institutions and the rivalry was as bitter as ever. It was only natural; they were competing agencies and there was only so much funding available. If one of them got a crime that the other thought they had jurisdiction over, the battles between the brass could get very messy. Things weren't that much better lower down either. Lisbon had seen other senior agents completely lose it over what would usually be insignificant details whenever they clashed with the FBI. She prided herself having not fallen into that camp yet, but there was still time.

There (almost) always was.

"No, of course not. I'm one of you now."

"You're heading up my team until I'm allowed back?"

"Yes. They're good guys; they're missing you."

"I miss them too."

"I know."

They fell into a restive silence. It wasn't painfully uncomfortable, not like it could have been. It was just the feeling of two old friends, relishing in the moment of becoming reacquainted with one another. Lisbon was quietly thrilled that Bosco had joined the CBI; so often, she felt as if she were battling against the other lead agents, despite the fact that they were meant to be on the same side. At least now, she was virtually guaranteed to have somebody else fighting in her corner if needs be. Her years with the SFPD had been some of the happiest of her life, partially due to Bosco. It was only natural that seeing him again would lift her spirits, just when she needed it the most.

"What about Amanda and the boys?" she asked tentatively.

Bosco's face fell. Automatically, Lisbon reached over and covered his hand with her own. She wasn't sure what had happened, but the memory was obviously still very raw for him. As quickly as she had touched him, she pulled away. It had been a long time since she'd last seen him and somehow, the action felt a little inappropriate. Like she was stepping over some kind of unwritten boundary.

"Still in San Francisco."

"Oh."

"She left me. Then Minelli offered me the job and I snapped his hand off," Bosco answered, "I thought it'd be the ideal new start."

"Is it?"

"I think so," he admitted and Lisbon smiled slightly. "I still get to see the boys though. About once a month. It's not enough, but it's better than nothing."

"That's good. It's a shame you're not here under happier circumstances."

"Enough about me. What's happened to you?"

"Oh this?" she stated nonchalantly, her eyes flickering down, resting on the plaster cast for half a second. "It's nothing."

"It's a broken arm," he retorted, knowing full well that he was stating the obvious.

"A car crash, about a month ago. My fault. I was lucky."

"That sounds like there was somebody less so."

"I don't want to go into it," she replied, somewhat coldly.

"Fine. But you seem different. Sadder, somehow…" he said, trailing off a little. "Is the accident why Minelli insisted you take leave?"

"Sam…"

"Okay, okay. If you don't want to talk about it, I won't make you. But if you change your mind…"

"I know. Thank you."

Bosco glanced at his watch before draining his coffee in one go. He was running slightly late for a meeting with Minelli. That was never the best way to impress a new boss. But then again, it had been years since he had last seen Lisbon and he wasn't going to waste a chance opportunity at that small riverside café. Though he had been in Sacramento for two weeks already, he simply hadn't had the chance to meet up with her. Now that he was working for the CBI, he genuinely hoped that he would see her a lot more, especially once she was back to work and he was heading his own unit rather than hers. He'd missed having her in his life.

"I gotta go."

"Okay… well…"

"Yeah," he said, somewhat lamely. "We shouldn't leave it so long, next time."

"We shouldn't," she agreed quietly.

"Well, duty calls."

"Don't remind me," she replied, pained by the fact that he was working with her team and she wasn't. "Say hello to Cho and Rigsby for me."

"Will do. I'll call you."

She watched as he twisted around the tables. Her eyes didn't leave him until he disappeared from view. It was only then that she looked down at her own drink, which was getting colder by the second.

"Yeah," she acknowledged, though Bosco was already long gone.

**TBC…**


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Not sure how soon the next update will be up. Depends on how soon I get out of hospital. Sorry about that.

Thank you to: Brian Marcus Burton, Famous4it, Jisbon4ever and watchyouwalk for reviewing part eleven. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twelve**

Lisbon eased herself into her chair and let out a sigh of relief.

It felt good to be back.

Though she had realized just how much she had missed work, she had also accepted the break had done her good. With everything that had happened of late, she had lost focus, lost her self-belief even. Now, she felt stronger, more ready for a challenge. Like she could actually cope with whatever was thrown at her rather than crumbling under pressure. She twisted her wrist gingerly, then allowed it to rest on her keyboard. The plaster cast had literally just come off the day before. It felt liberating, in a way. It was almost a sign that she was back to normal, that she had her freedom back. She didn't have to rely on neighbors to drive her to the grocery store and didn't have to struggle to do simple tasks like opening a jar anymore. It was just a shame that, while she felt significantly better in almost all aspects of her life, she knew that her relationship with Minelli and the rest of her team was going to take a lot more effort than a short break. Cho and Rigsby had probably found out about herself and Jane; gossip spread through the CBI headquarters like wildfire. She hoped they wouldn't bring it up; she didn't really feel like discussing it.

Not when she still wasn't sure where to go with it herself. Then again, part of her doubted that she would even know what she actually wanted if she were given years to think it over.

Sophie had kept her updated as best she could, while ensuring she didn't break confidentiality. Lisbon knew that Jane's psychiatrist was trying to remain upbeat and positive and that she was trying to make sure that it sounded like everything was going well, but that wasn't what she was actually saying. Between the lines, it sounded like the picture was still as bleak as it was on the his first day at the mental institution. Like he hadn't actually made any progress whatsoever. It was a heartbreaking situation and she knew she was avoiding it.

She should see him. Really, she should. Over the past month, she had had more than enough opportunities to drop by and see how he was progressing with her own eyes, but she found excuses not to. Lisbon was scared; excepting in court, the last time she had seen him, he had tried to kill himself. That wasn't the Jane she knew, the confident, charismatic figure that could twist almost any woman around his little finger, if he really wanted to. And as he'd apparently gone even further into his shell… Well, she just didn't know if she was ready to witness that. However, the longer she left it, the less likely she would actually go and visit him.

"A penny for your thoughts?"

Lisbon looked up to see Bosco standing in front of her with two polystyrene cups in his hands. She smiled gratefully as he handed her one. Bosco settled down opposite her, pleased to finally have the opportunity to catch up with his protégé.

"Well?"

"Oh, it's nothing."

"Teresa…"

"I was thinking about a… a friend. That's all."

"Patrick Jane?"

"Yes, how did you…"

"Rigsby told me. He also said you were more than just friends."

"Don't start," she snapped irritably. She had only just gotten back and she wasn't in the mood for yet another lecture about just how inappropriate her relationship with Jane had been. "I've already heard it."

"I'm not judging you."

"Well it sure looks like it from this angle."

"You loved him?"

"I… yes, no, I don't know," she stuttered in a moment's indecision. "Besides, what's it to do with you?"

"I care, that's all."

"It's been five years, Sam. A lot changes."

"And don't I know it," he responded with a slight chuckle. "Have you been to see him yet? In the mental institution?"

"No, why?"

"Because the longer you leave it, the more you'll regret it. And the more you regret it, the more it'll influence your work."

"But…"

"Go and see him. You can always come and talk to me after…"

"I'll think about it."

"Good."

"Well…"

"One more thing before I go? Nice work on the Red John case."

"We never caught him…"

"No, but you've done some excellent groundwork. It gives my team a lot to work with."

"Thanks, I guess."

She fell silent and Bosco remained seated, sipping periodically at his coffee. Lisbon wasn't quite sure what he was after; she had felt certain that he would tear her to pieces over Jane rather than encourage her to see him. Then there was Red John. When she'd found out that Bosco had joined the CBI and was working with her team, she hadn't made the connection that it was him who would be getting the Red John case. It bothered her a little, reminded her just how relatively inexperienced she was for a senior agent. Made it feel like Minelli and Bosco were patronizing her, saying she'd done a good job, but maybe in a few years she'd be experienced enough for a case like this. Bosco had been her senior in the SFPD and now she was in Sacramento and he had been given _her_ career-making case.

At least she knew he would do a good job of it. And as she knew him fairly well, or at least, had five years ago, then maybe she would have more of a chance of keeping in contact with that case.

"Boss?" Cho popped his head around the door and nodded slightly at Bosco and Lisbon. "We're up."

xxx

"I'm coming after you, Mr. Jane. I'm closer than you think."

Jane shuddered as an icy cold hand touched his cheek. He turned over on the pathetic excuse for a bed, trying desperately to shy away from the other person. All he wanted to do was sleep; the latest drugs that Sophie was pumping into him only ever seemed to make him drowsy. At least they usually caused a dreamless sleep and stopped him from thinking repeatedly about what had happened. About what he had done.

"That doesn't work, Mr. Jane. I'm still here."

"Go away."

"You say that a lot."

"And you don't listen either."

"Clearly."

The hand moved to his shoulder and gripped it firmly. Jane winced at the pressure and batted away impatiently at it. Where was Sophie? Why wasn't she getting rid of Red John? She was so insistent that he wasn't there, that he'd never visited him and yet, whenever he was around, she wasn't. How could she be so certain that it was all in his mind when she never looked in on him when Red John was actually there? With a considerable amount of effort, Jane pushed himself to a seated position. It was the first time he'd felt like he had the strength to react with Red John around. When he managed to make it to his feet, he felt triumphant. Now, all he had to do was close the gap between himself and the door, open it and leave. It all seemed too easy.

"I don't know why you think that's going to work."

xxx

"It's locked, you know."

"Sophie?"

Sophie smiled brightly. It was the first time he'd actually referred to her by name. The first indication that he was actually making some progress. Usually, he just blanked her and on a couple of occasions, had even accused her of being Red John. It didn't surprise her in the slightest that he had become fixated on the serial killer; he was probably looking for somebody else to blame for the death of his family. She had watched a recording of his interview on the television show several times. What he'd said about Red John had been provoking. She'd done a little research into him, since Jane had become her patient. Her sources had predominantly been the press and the internet and she was more than aware of their ability to hype up a situation, but even taking it with a pinch of salt, the statistics were somewhat horrifying. From the little she knew about the serial killer, it was obvious that he wouldn't let somebody goad him like that and go unpunished.

"Hello, Patrick," she answered and gently placed a hand on his forearm. "Why don't you come and sit down?"

"But Red John…"

"Sit down and then you can tell me."

Sophie was somewhat surprised when he nodded gently and allowed her to lead him back to the bed. Usually, he put up more of a fight and on occasion, she had been forced to call for back up. Silently she hoped that this was a sign that the medication was slowly starting to kick in and that she was actually getting through to him. It was certainly a massive improvement from even a week beforehand.

Then again, things could equally go straight downhill again. Many of her previous patients fluctuated; they had good and bad days, with the positive slowly outweighing the negative. Sophie didn't expect that Jane would be any different. It had just been frustrating thus far that he had made so little progress; luckier patients could have a complete turnaround within a month. Then again, most of those hadn't suffered the losses that Jane had.

At least he had Lisbon on the outside.

Or at least, Sophie thought he did.

But that was better than nothing. It was more than some of her other longer-term patients had. Those who literally had nothing left to live for.

She just had to make sure that Jane himself realized he still had people who cared about him. Still had something to strive towards, somebody who would make him want to get better himself.

The only problem was, it had been some time since she had heard from Lisbon. She had a feeling that Jane's sudden spiral downhill had really taken Lisbon off-guard. It was a shame, really. Sophie respected the woman, especially after having worked with her on a couple of cases. Had they had the time and energy, she could have even imagined them becoming fairly good friends. Both their careers meant that socializing was nearly impossible, even if they had tried to put the effort in. Just because she was a police officer and had been exposed to some of the darkest, most cruel things people could do to one another, it didn't mean things like mental breakdowns wouldn't unnerve her. Still, she decided it was about time she called the senior agent and update her on Jane's progress. As she listened to Jane's detailed descriptions of events, she hoped that Lisbon, hearing that there had been such a difference in his personality, would finally be encouraged to come and visit him.

xxx

"Boss?"

Lisbon shook her head as she heard somebody call, embarrassed to have lost focus at such a moment. It was the new boy, Agent Hicks. It hadn't taken Lisbon long to make a judgment of him, to decide that he was going to go far. Hicks was a little older than she was and had been in the Army for a decent spell before deciding he needed a career change. His extensive experience within the forces had meant he easily stood out from the crowd and Minelli hadn't hesitated in hiring him. Though she would have appreciated a little more input, Lisbon found she approved of the hiring generally. Besides, Hicks was likely to quickly grow bored of being just a rookie and would probably soon be transferred to a larger role in another team. Maybe then she'd have more of a say in who she was in charge of.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think of this?"

She leaned into the window, at the broken glass. A thread from the perpetrator's clothing was caught in it and underneath, in the flower patch, a footprint. Lisbon smiled approvingly; he obviously had a good eye for detail as well.

"Good job. Make sure forensics take samples."

"Yes, boss."

Lisbon turned to face the body again and raked a hand through her hair. It looked like a relatively routine murder inquiry or rather, about as routine as they ever got. In reality, it needn't have involved them at all, but Lauren Vargas happened to be the daughter of a senator and he'd wanted the 'best law enforcement officers the state had to offer', which in Senator Vargas' opinion, was them. A quick word with the Attorney General, followed by a swift phone call to Minelli had meant it landed on her lap. It didn't matter to the brass that the LEOs would cause a fuss, thinking that they were just interfering. She was the one who had to make sure ruffled feathers were sufficiently smoothed as well as trying to catch Lauren's killer.

Despite the fact that she knew she had an important task in hand, it didn't stop her mind from drifting to other thoughts. Like, what was happening with Red John. There had still been a couple of leads after Angela and Charlotte's murders that she was keen to try out, but hadn't had the chance. Before her vacation, they had been fixated on the concept of Red John wanting to punish Jane, but it was entirely plausible that he had also made an enemy of Angela before her death. Lisbon knew enough of Jane's deceased wife to know that she was the argumentative type, that she easily got herself caught up in rows. Maybe, when they were back in the office, she would mention it to Bosco.

The rest of the day went painfully slowly. They attempted to interview Lauren's mother, though she had gotten herself into such a state that Lisbon quickly decided to reorganize it for the morning. The brother had been more composed and there was something a little off about him. She just hoped they'd get more insight into the relationship he had with his sister when they started talking to the teenager's friends. Every minute, Lisbon was painfully aware about just how much Jane would probably have enjoyed the case. Mainly because there were a lot of high profile politicians to potentially irritate.

The headquarters was quiet by the time she got back there. Most of the other teams had left off for the night; only the Major Crimes Unit and thus, Bosco was still in the building. Lisbon was half-tempted to knock on his door and see how he was doing, but instead resisted the urge and headed straight to her office. Just because she'd had a vacation, it didn't mean the paperwork stopped and as a result, she was woefully behind. She decided that she would focus on that before heading home for an early night so she could return focused in the morning.

She was mid-way through her fifth form when she heard a knock. As she signed her name, she distractedly called 'come in' and only looked up to see Bosco standing in front of her after he'd closed the door again.

"Hey, you."

"Sam," she acknowledged with a slight smile.

"How was your first day back at work?"

"Good."

"I hear you got the Vargas case?"

"Yeah, just what I needed as a welcome back. Politicians who'll refuse to play nice."

"You've been in here a while," he stated, trying desperately to keep the conversation rolling.

"So have you."

"We should take a break."

"I was just finishing up for the night, actually."

"Would you like to go out for a drink? Tonight?" he asked, somewhat hopefully.

"Not tonight, Sam," she responded gently, feeling entirely guilt-free for letting him down. She just wasn't in the mood for socializing. "New case, remember?"

"Yeah. What about next week at some point? For old time's sake."

"We're not that old."

"You know what I mean," he responded, almost immediately and Lisbon cringed. She loathed that phrase.

"Maybe. I'll let you know."

**TBC…**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **I'm back! And I would just like to quickly say that my surgery was a success and I had a positive outcome from it. I will also have a rather cool scar, which is always a good thing in my opinion.

Also, just before my recuperation, my friend, Miss Peg, and I set up a new Mentalist fan forum. The link is in my profile if you are interested in checking it out.

Anyway, enough of the shameless plugging. Thank you to: Brian Marcus Burton, wachyouwalk, Famous4it, Kaslyna and Jisbon4ever for reviewing part twelve. Also, as always, to ch19777 for betaing this beast.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Thirteen**

Lisbon ran a lazy finger around the rim of her wine glass. She was drinking slowly, but she always did. Her father's alcohol abuse meant that she was a little nervous around the substance, even now, nearly twenty years after he'd died. For a significant spell, she had been teetotal, but joining the police force had shelved that idea. It was one thing being a woman in this career, but another entirely refusing to drink with the lads. Bosco didn't seem to particularly notice; he was more than happy to keep drinking steadily as she just stared at the red contents of her glass.

She should never have agreed to a drink.

Though everything had remained amicable enough, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Bosco had more than just friendship on his mind.

When she worked under him in the SFPD, there had always been moments. Short periods of time where she had seriously considered 'if only' and the 'what ifs'. Of course, she never dared to try anything; the job meant everything to her and besides, at the time she had thought she'd never go there. Never date a married man, regardless of how they felt for one another. Back then, she'd been so uptight, so principled. Briefly, she wondered what happened, what went wrong. Why the hell did she let Jane get under her skin so successfully that she was willing to shelve all of her principles just for him?

She let out a hollow laugh. How the mighty had fallen.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking."

"You sure?"

Lisbon nodded and was grateful that he didn't push it. The whole situation felt absurd enough as it was.

Firstly, yet again, there was the work problem. Regardless of whether or not she wanted something to happen, she couldn't, shouldn't allow it. The loophole that was present when she had wanted to date Jane simply did not exist when it came to Bosco. They were both agents and both of them were in senior positions. They were meant to be role models for younger, less experienced agents. The rules explicitly stated that no two permanent employees within the CBI were allowed to be in a romantic relationship. If anything was to happen between them, they would be flagrantly disobeying instructions.

Bosco knew that. She was more than aware of it too.

Besides, even without that fatal issue, it was too soon for her, too soon for both of them. Bosco had barely been separated from his wife for three months. Three months was no way near enough time to come to terms with the ending of a decade-long marriage, not to mention several years worth of dating beforehand. And kids too. Two beautiful boys who were apparently showing signs that they were growing up to be respectable young men, just like their father. He was clearly just looking for somebody to nurse his wounded pride, for a rebound.

She wasn't willing to go there.

Not least because she still didn't even know where she stood herself when it came to her own love-life.

It was a stupid, yet unavoidable, situation to be in. However, she was becoming increasingly aware of the fact that she was refusing to face the situation head-on. The problem was that she was scared.

Scared of losing yet another person.

First her Mom, dead by the time Lisbon was in her teens. Stolen away from her because some bastard thought it sensible to drive after having a drink too many. Then her Dad, inconsolable with grief after the loss of his wife. Drank himself to oblivion, neglected his four children and killed himself when he realized he just couldn't handle life any longer. Tommy, too. He had no memories of their father and no guidance from a male role model. Lisbon had tried her best, really she had, but eventually he just slipped through her fingers as well. He wasn't dead, not yet, but with how little they meant to one another now, he might as well have been. There were others, too. Grandparents and other relatives, taken due to various illnesses or simply old age. Friends that she'd pushed away. Work colleagues she'd cut down, simply to extend her own career.

And now, Jane.

Jane, who had done nothing wrong but fall apart after his family was killed. Jane, who she loved so dearly yet was too fucking scared to face even though he was at his lowest. Jane, who she was letting down by simply accepting Bosco's invitation of a drink.

"I have to go."

"Teresa…"

"No, really. I'm sorry, Sam, but this is… I just can't…"

"I understand."

Lisbon shook her head, grabbed her purse and fled. She decided that as soon as she arrived home, she would find Sophie Miller and make sure that she would visit Jane within the week.

At least, then, she wouldn't have him haunting her every step of the way.

xxx

Sophie immediately threw her arms around Lisbon and smiled broadly, despite the other woman's obvious apprehension. Her nervous telephone call, two nights ago, had caught her by surprise. Though it had only been a little over a month, it had gotten to the stage where Sophie believed Lisbon never would come. She had seen it happen before, with other patients. Partners found their belief in their relationship and the other person damaged beyond repair. The longer they left it, the worse the issue became until they just couldn't face it any more. She knew Lisbon was a strong individual, but that didn't mean she had the capabilities of dealing with every single problem thrown in her path.

"You came."

"I did," Lisbon answered, looking relieved when Sophie finally released her. "I'm sorry it took so long."

"Don't be. I understand that some people take longer to come to terms with it than others."

"I still feel bad."

"Don't," Sophie repeated, stressing the word. "You're here now and that's the main thing. Are you ready to go and see him?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

"I should warn you…"

Sophie trailed off slightly and Lisbon cocked her head quizzically. She didn't like the sound of that. It seemed ominous, like things had gotten even worse than the last time they spoke. Lisbon thought briefly back to a week ago, when she had brushed Sophie off with some feeble excuses. She had been busy though, with the Vargas case, which was now progressing at snail's pace. Regardless, she hadn't given Sophie the chance to have her say, had simply gotten rid of her instead of listening to how Jane was doing.

She was falling into the same trap as her father had when her mother had died: simply ignoring the issue and hoping it would go away.

Her father had done it by drinking and avoiding his duties. She was doing it by hiding behind her work and using it as an excuse to turn away. Just because her emotional crutch was less physically damaging to herself and others, it didn't mean that it wasn't exactly the same thing.

"What's happened?"

"He sometimes believes that Red John is in the room with him."

"He was doing that just after… after the accident," Lisbon admitted, realizing she should probably have divulged that information to Sophie earlier. "He accused a cleaner at the hospital of being him."

"Ah. Well, it might take him a while to realize we're even in the room with him."

"Right. I can handle that."

She wasn't even sure why she said that. The reason she had taken so long to visit at all was because she wasn't sure she could deal with Jane's current state of mind. If she had been, she would have dropped by the day after his institutionalization and seen him repeatedly by now. Sophie didn't respond and merely led the way through some twisting corridors. Lisbon was relieved. So many people seemed to be angry at her for one reason or another, that she didn't really want to add Jane's doctor to that list as well.

The first thing she saw on the wall was the smiley face. Her heart dropped and she turned on Sophie, demanding that she let her in immediately. Automatically, her hand had flown to her waist, her fingers grappling desperately for her gun, despite the fact that she hadn't been allowed to bring the weapon in. It took Sophie a good five minutes or so to calm her down, to convince her that Jane had painted the face in his own blood and that they hadn**'**t had the time or resources to paint over it just yet. For a significant period of time, she was skeptical but Sophie was unsurprised. It was her job to be.

Jane didn't appear to recognize Lisbon when she walked into the room. That disappointed Sophie, especially as he had managed to build some semblance of a rapport with herself. She had hoped that Jane would at least be able to acknowledge somebody who he'd known for significantly longer. It started off calm enough. Sophie watched from the other side of a one-way mirror, listening as Lisbon tried to update him on what had happened to her since she'd seen him last. He just lay there, staring aimlessly up at the ceiling. As far as he was concerned, he could have been alone.

After a while, he sat up, shook his head and stretched a little.

Seconds later, he lunged at Lisbon, hands trying desperately to grab hold of her throat.

xxx

"Hello, Patrick."

Jane shook his head and saw Angela staring back down at him. He didn't respond, what was the point? They always landed up in arguments, with her pointing the finger at him and blaming him for her death. Even though she was dead, she couldn't stop fighting with him, always had to row. All he really wanted was a little peace and quiet and to be let out of the cage he'd found himself in. He wasn't insane; he was just being haunted by two very determined ghosts. Suddenly and without much of a warning, Angela's hands were around his neck. He could barely breathe and was choking. Somehow, he managed to throw her off and to sit himself up.

"You bastard," she growled, blood dripping from her nose. "Haven't you hurt me enough already?"

She went to attack again, but this time, Jane was prepared. With gritted determination, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and squeezed as hard as he could. It was the only way he could think of to stop it. Angela didn't respond, even though she felt solid underneath his fingertips. Instead she merely pointed at him and laughed at his ineptitude. Mocked him as she always had done when she had been alive.

Jane hated this, hated what he'd become.

He wanted Lisbon, wanted to see her and hold her and never let her go. Tell her that he would be fine, that she would be too and that nothing was wrong. Briefly, he wondered why she hadn't bothered to visit him. Was she really that scared of what the courts thought he'd become? Jane knew that she lived her life by the law and that she saw their judgment as final. That didn't stop him from wishing that she could find it somewhere in her heart to be able to see through that, to realize that he was still the same man.

What the courts said meant nothing.

The sooner this living hell ended, the better.

xxx

"What happened to you?"

Lisbon's hand darted up to her neck unconsciously. She knew it was bruised and it still felt a little tender to touch. When Jane had attacked her and Sophie, with some help from security guards, had to practically peel him off of her, she hadn't expected him to be physically capable of doing that much damage.

"Oh this?" she queried, acting surprised that he'd even noticed her injury. "It's nothing."

"Yeah, it really looks like nothing, Teresa," Bosco remarked noncommittally and she glared at him. "You seem to attract trouble at the moment."

"I don't want to hear it, Sam."

She was still annoyed with him, if only a little. It didn't even make sense and Lisbon was at least somewhat aware that she was misplacing her anger. It was, after all, Bosco who had suggested she went to see Jane on her first day back at work. The casual drink she had attempted to share with him had also confirmed that she had spent too long avoiding the issue. So, she'd finally fought her demons and visited him, only for him to attempt to strangle her to death. But she couldn't bring herself to blame Jane, not when he didn't mean it. There was a reason he was institutionalized and it wasn't because he was just feeling a little down. When she had visited, she had been more than aware that he was a threat to himself and others.

She'd already seen him try to take his own life; she had been the one who stopped him from doing so. Sophie had told her that he had lashed out at her on several occasions. It wasn't as if she hadn't had any forewarning, but still, it was like a blow to the gut.

A wake-up call.

A dawning realization.

It made her see just how severe his situation was, just how much work Sophie had left to do. Just how little of the man she loved was left. Once again, she unwittingly allowed her fingertips to stroke her damaged skin. He'd never have tried to do something like that before the death of his family. Physically harming somebody else would have never crossed his mind, or if it did, he would have quickly disregarded it. Jane was always into mental tricks for revenge, not throwing fists. At the time, she hadn't defended herself, his strength had taken her completely by surprise.

Lisbon stopped when she realized Bosco was staring at her pointedly. Really, she wanted to be alone, but she didn't have the heart to throw him out of her office. She still felt guilty for deserting him a couple of nights beforehand and had avoided him since then. That was something she was getting good at, running away from problems instead of facing them head-on. It wasn't like her, or rather, that wasn't her ethos when it came to work. Whenever she had issues with her career, she dealt with the problem as quickly and efficiently as feasibly possible. Why the hell couldn't she have the same attitude when it came to her personal life as well? What was so different about that?

"Sam," she started tentatively, while gazing pointedly at the floor. "I'm sorry about, you know…"

"Don't be."

"I do… What I mean is," she paused, realizing everything she was saying was coming out fragmented as she lost her train of thought. "I still care about you, Sam."

"And I care about you too."

His hand covered hers and she slowly managed to tear her eyes away from the ground. Her heart felt like it was going at ten to the dozen and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She didn't even understand how, why, she was feeling like this. All of her feelings for Bosco were old, ancient history. Something that she had never intended to revisit. There was no point digging out old skeletons in the closet, anyway. Besides, he was married and happily in love and therefore out of bounds.

_Was_ married and _was_ out of bounds.

Not anymore.

If he were still with Mandy, if he still loved her, he would have remained in San Francisco.

But he wasn't.

He was here.

With her.

Lisbon glanced away. This was all too much, too soon. It was ripping open old wounds, reminding her of hurt that she thought she'd long since gotten over. She couldn't handle anything with Bosco, not right now. Anyway, she was too busy trying to reassess her feelings for Jane, to come to terms with the fact that it was over, regardless of whether she wanted it to be or not. And she did care about Bosco, but there was a massive difference between caring and actually loving somebody.

"Sam, I…" she started but trailed quickly off.

She liked Bosco, she had for years. But never once did she believe that one day, he would actually press his lips against hers in her office at the CBI headquarters.

**TBC…**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **Right, so I'm off for the weekend. My first theatre trips (yes, trips. I'm seeing 2 shows tomorrow. So very excited. I've had these booked for months!) since I had my operation. Feels like it's been so long since I last went to the theatre, though in reality, it'll have just been 3 weeks tomorrow. Probably because a lot has happened in that period of time.

Thank you to: watchyouwalk, Kaslyna, xxxBekaForEvaxxx and Famous4it for reveiwing part 13. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

And just a quick note, as a couple of people have asked/implied: the Bosco storyline is just a subplot. Just something to confuse things a little. Because I really don't like to make things _simple_.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Fourteen**

She pulled away suddenly.

Lisbon was shocked and terribly confused. She felt as though her heart was being torn in two ways. Between Jane, her current love, though also indisposed and Bosco, a man whom she had adored when she was younger. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt either of them. Realistically, she needed to be there for Jane, though she didn't know how she was going to manage that. Not when she was fearful that he might turn around and attack her again. On the other hand, there was Bosco. She still respected him deeply and although she hadn't exactly pushed him away, she hadn't gone out with the intention to seduce him either. In fact, until she saw him for the first time in years during her vacation, she hadn't really given him much thought.

Since then, it seemed like he and Jane were fighting out for who deserved the most attention.

The situation was a mess and it only seemed to be getting worse.

Lisbon stared deep into Bosco's eyes and wished she had Jane's ability to read people with ease. He looked a little hurt, but that was unsurprising. After all, Bosco had just been rejected by a woman he'd been in a long, committed relationship with and now she appeared to be doing exactly the same thing. If only there was a way to make everyone happy, a way that didn't compromise anything**,** but that was just wishful thinking. She was far too old to believe that dreams came true just because you hoped they would.

"Sam, I'm sorry."

She stood, gathered together her belongings as quickly as she could, all the while avoiding looking at him. Bosco just stood there, slightly dumbfounded, as if he were rooted to the spot. Once again, instead of facing the issue head-on, she was running away, acting as if it didn't exist or were unimportant. Barely minutes earlier, she had been berating herself for the fact, telling herself she should grow a spine when it came to her love-life. Instead, she was just falling into that old habit of avoidance yet again. Why change the habit of a lifetime? She just wasn't ready to deal with it, not yet. Maybe next time, when she felt a little more prepared, somehow she would be able to actually deal with the situation instead of running away.

With one last fleeting glance, she swept out of her office and tried desperately not to feel so guilty about what was happening. It wasn't as if she had much control over the situation, anyway.

xxx

"Yes, thank you very much. That's just what I needed to hear."

Lisbon placed the receiver down and smiled to herself. It was the first piece of good news they'd had for weeks and it felt especially needed, considering what had happened in her office merely days ago. Forensics had finally come up good with regards to the Vargas case. The footprint had been matched to the victim's brother's sneakers, along with DNA evidence collected from the crime scene. It had taken a long while for them to get the answers they needed, but it was better than not getting them at all. Since she had been working with Jane, Lisbon had grown used to a faster turnaround. His methods were generally a lot quicker than those of the scientists holed up in labs. But still, this proved that they, she, didn't _need_ him to close a case, he just helped to speed the process up a little.

"Boss?"

She looked up and smiled briefly when she saw Rigsby loitering at the door. Despite his somewhat intimidating stature, he could be surprisingly nervous at times. It didn't matter too much, he was slowly but surely growing into his own. In a year or so, he would probably be as decent an agent as Cho was. Lisbon remembered what she had been like when she had only been in the force for a year. Skittish, edgy and determined to prove herself. If it weren't for Bosco, she would still have been stuck out in the sticks somewhere. Probably working under a chauvinistic Sheriff who didn't think she was capable of doing the job just because she was a woman. Bosco had been a good boss, a good role model. She wanted to give the same type of leadership to her team now.

"Yes, Rigsby?"

"We have a problem."

"What is it?" she answered, a little more snappishly than she intended.

"The Vargas kid, he's made a run for it."

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath.

"What's wrong?"

"Forensics just got back. The evidence suggests that he did it."

"_He_ did it? Why would he kill his own sister?"

Lisbon raised a skeptical eyebrow. Perhaps the in-depth discussion they had shared about the possible motives of various suspects had been lost on him? It hadn't happened all that long ago. She disregarded it quickly; Rigsby's swift promotion meant he was dealing with quite a bit at the moment. It was something she sympathized with. After all, she had a lot on her plate as well.

"Well that's what we'll have to ask when we find him, won't we?" she retorted as she stood. "Now are you coming to find him or do you want to stay and man the phones?"

"Coming. Definitely coming."

It didn't take them long to track down Phillip Vargas. When he had realized that he'd left behind crucial evidence, he had fled to a friend's house. Cho's interrogation techniques meant that he managed to break down the teen's barriers all too quickly and they were soon standing outside of a small bed-sit. Lisbon tapped on the door patiently, more than aware that she was highly unlikely to get an answer. After a good five minutes had passed, she nodded briefly at Rigsby who squared himself up to the door, ready to kick it down.

Phillip was already waiting for them on the other side. He was also armed.

"Put the gun down!" Lisbon shouted, but he promptly ignored her.

As soon as he saw cops in the doorway, he started shooting wildly. The first bullet missed them entirely and found itself wedged in the door frame. The second clipped Lisbon's arm. She didn't react; she had been trained to ignore such situations until they had been brought under control. Phillip, realizing that he'd actually hurt one of them, dropped the gun in horror and fell to his knees, begging them not to shoot him. It seemed like, despite the fact that he'd apparently killed his sister, injuring a cop was another matter entirely. He hadn't wanted to hurt them, just to scare them away and give him more time to escape again. Cho, unperturbed by the young man's sudden change of heart, cuffed him and dragged him back to the van, as Lisbon instructed. Rigsby, however, turned to face his boss, dialing for an ambulance at the same time.

"Don't," she instructed, not wanting a fuss. Really, all she wanted to do was get back to the CBI headquarters and get a confession out of Phillip. " There's no need. It's only a flesh wound. I just need to clean it up a bit."

"Isn't that the arm you broke a couple of months ago?" Rigsby stated, a little shaken that Lisbon had been injured yet again in such a short period of time.

"Yeah. And?"

"With all due respect, I think it'd be better if you got it checked out. Just in case, Boss."

Lisbon glared at him but eventually conceded. Despite being the boss, it didn't mean she was always right. She looked at her arm to inspect the damage, now that the action had died down. There was quite a lot of blood, but she was convinced that it looked worse than it actually was. Besides, Cho and Hicks would be able to deal with Phillip. And if seeing a doctor would stop Rigsby from fussing, then it was a small sacrifice to make.

xxx

"Patrick?"

Sophie nudged him gently, hoping to wake him. Moments after he'd attacked Lisbon, she had placed him under sedation, for his good as much as anybody else's. Though he'd struck Sophie and orderlies on a couple of occasions, it had normally been accidental. Usually while he was flailing and apparently attempting to get rid of Red John. Never before had he explicitly attempted to take someone's life. There were other patients who had, but Jane had always seemed more sane than them. Like he still knew the boundaries between right and wrong and was more intent on harming himself than anybody else.

Obviously, he had just taken a massive leap backwards.

When Lisbon had left, she had been completely shaken. Sophie would be surprised if she dropped by again; it had been hard enough for her to visit in the first place. Now, she probably thought Jane would attempt to strangle her again and it was safer for her to avoid him at all costs. That was the last thing Jane needed, one of the few people who actually seemed to care about him giving up on him. He hadn't had any other visitors, no family, distraught at the fact that somebody they cared deeply about had gone so far off the rails. No friends dropping by and speaking about how tragic it was that he landed up in a mental institution. Nobody but Lisbon. Sophie had tried to contact others, but had no luck whatsoever. The few people she managed to talk to about him were annoyed with him in one way or another and simply didn't care.

She sighed. This was only making things harder.

Jane finally opened his eyes and looked up at her inquisitively. Sophie remained quiet as he stretched and took in his surroundings, almost as if it were the first time he'd ever seen them. It seemed like he had completely forgotten everything that had happened since he was institutionalized. She immediately recognized the look of horror on his face; one of dawning realization of where he was. Sophie hoped she was wrong, that the minimal progress they had made still meant something.

Otherwise, things were getting worse for him.

"Where am I?"

"You're in hospital, Patrick," she explained softly.

"Oh," he answered and looked a little confused. "Why?"

"You had a breakdown. I'm here to help. Remember?"

"Who are you?"

"Sophie," she answered, trying to remain impassive.

It was just as she'd feared.

xxx

"Nice one," Lisbon said appreciatively after Cho had updated her on the Vargas situation. "Why don't you all go get some closed case drinks? I'll catch up."

"But…"

"I insist," she interrupted, refusing to let them talk her out of it. "You guys deserve a treat. I should have been here to…"

"You were shot at, Lisbon," Cho answered back. "I think you can be forgiven for not being here."

She narrowed her eyes slightly. Lisbon didn't need to be reminded that she had recently had a plethora of accidents. The paramedic hadn't been keen to let her go; the bruises decorating her neck had intrigued him and he'd wanted to check them out. He didn't appear to believe that she'd received them in a hospital and had already been treated for them. Nor did he care that she was actually very busy with work and needed to get back to the CBI headquarters in order to arrest a kid for killing his younger sister. Lisbon hated stubborn medics who never seemed to understand the importance of her work. Besides, she'd been hurt enough times in the line of duty to know how much time was needed to deal with the resulting injury.

"I'll just do the necessary paperwork, deliver it to the D.A.'s office and then I'll be with you. I'm just giving you a head start," she retorted, determined to get her own way. "Besides, you don't really want your _boss_ with you all night, do you?"

Hicks and Rigsby seemed content to take her word for it and soon disappeared. However, Cho lingered behind. He knew what Lisbon was up to; she was intending to send them away. When an appropriate amount of time had passed, she would text him, stating that she had been held up at the office and really, she needed an early night. He knew that she hated cases which involved children. It always seemed like a pointless waste of a life. Lauren Vargas had died simply because her brother had disapproved of the fact that she had a girlfriend instead of a boyfriend. For times which taught tolerance and acceptance, people were still judged terribly for certain lifestyle choices. The young victim had discovered that in the worst possible way. And now, because of his homophobia, her brother was going to waste away in jail as well.

A tough case like this on top of Jane's hospitalization was the last thing Lisbon needed and Cho understood that. However, he also believed that being on her own and dwelling on it would do her no good either. It would be better for her to have a distraction, to enjoy herself, if only for an evening. But Lisbon had a particularly stubborn streak, one which even Cho struggled to talk around on occasion. After a couple of failed attempts to persuade her to join them, he appeared to change his mind. Quickly, he decided that he'd let it go this time, but make sure that she wasn't left alone all night.

Lisbon only discovered what these plans were after an hour of non-stop paperwork. Bosco had walked through the door and his eyes lingered briefly on the bandage on her arm. When he'd stopped by to ask Bosco to drop in on Lisbon, Cho had also briefly mentioned the shooting. They both knew she was lucky, but that didn't stop either of them from worrying. Both men knew she was in a fragile state of mind and that was why Bosco had immediately jumped at the chance to see her. He'd been avoiding her for the past couple of days, embarrassed by the debacle that had happened in her office. Moments after she had rushed out on him, Bosco had regretted kissing her. Not because he hadn't wanted to; he did and would do so again, if she'd let him, but because it was simply the wrong time. He'd known about her relationship with Jane, knew that she didn't know where she stood with it. It had been a tactless and thoughtless move, one driven by primitive instincts which he should have known how to control.

"Hey."

"Hey," she echoed and smiled briefly at Bosco.

"I've brought tequila," he stated and held up the bottle and two shot glasses for her to see. "I thought that if you won't celebrate closing the Vargas case with the rest of your team, you might want to restart an old tradition."

Lisbon smirked.

"Yeah, but you had nothing to do with this case."

"Ah, but I've made a breakthrough with Red John."

"You have?" she questioned, eyes lighting up a little. "What is it?"

"That would be telling. You have your own cases to figure out."

She pouted a little and Bosco smirked. That was a habit she obviously hadn't grown out of and he was glad for it. Lisbon always managed to look rather sweet than irritated when sulking.

"Here, have a drink."

He pushed forward a glass of amber liquid, which she accepted gratefully. Gently, she knocked it against his shot glass before swallowing it in one mouthful. She winced as it burned the back of her throat and watched as he did the same. At least Bosco wasn't attempting to dredge up the past, was letting them move on from it. Right now, she didn't want a heart to heart. In all honesty, she'd have preferred to be at home in bed, but had wanted to make sure the case was airtight before handing their evidence over. However, spending time with Bosco, doing things they used to do in the SFPD didn't seem like such a bad idea.

One drink turned into several and Lisbon soon found herself feeling a little giddy. In her muddled state, she couldn't quite remember why she'd stopped kissing Bosco last time around. She'd had confirmation that her relationship with Jane was going nowhere, that there was no point in her putting her life on hold for something that might not happen. Besides, half of her thought it wouldn't last the distance. Not anymore, not now**,** they could be a 'normal' couple, relatively guilt**-**free. She didn't think she could ever imagine Jane in a normal situation again, the picture just didn't fit.

Bosco, however…

He was the polar opposite of Jane. Dependable, reliable, honest. Instead of dragging a loveless marriage on and on like Jane had, he and Mandy had ended it. And he'd always cared about her. Always looked out for her, never once had he let her down.

That was the kind of man her Mom would have wanted her daughter to be with.

Not caring whether or not she would regret it in the morning, Lisbon stood and placed her hands gently on Bosco's face. Then, she rolled onto her toes and kissed him as if he were the last thing that truly mattered to her.

**TBC…**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **Just quickly, shows were awesome. Wicked's Nikki Davis-Jones was even more awesome than she was a year ago. Ghost needs to remain open forever because it is incredible.

Thanks to: Kaslyna, Famous4it and watchyouwalk for reviewing part fourteen and to ch19777 for reviewing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Fifteen**

Days turned to weeks, weeks into months and in the blink of an eye, over a year had already passed.

Despite losing the Red John case, work was going relatively well for Lisbon. As she had predicted, Hicks developed into a fine agent very quickly and was soon moved on. He was working under Bosco now, in the Major Crimes Unit. As she'd hoped, Minelli allowed her to have more say in his replacement. The types of cases her unit worked with meant that she needed to have at least three agents working on it at any given time. Lisbon glanced down at Grace Van Pelt's contract and quickly signed it. She was currently doing her induction and was due to officially start in a week. Van Pelt seemed bright and enthusiastic and she reminded Lisbon a little of herself at that age.

All youthful exuberance and naiveté.

Sometimes, she wished she could have it all back. She hated just how cynical and jaded she had become on occasion. How seeing somebody bludgeoned to death didn't make her bat an eyelid and how having a gun pointed in her direction felt like a day to day occurrence. That kind of exposure to violence changed people and not always for the better. Lisbon knew that she'd needed to toughen up though, simply to be able to cope with the stresses of her job. It didn't mean she had to like it though. Little more than she had to like just how much her principles had been shaken up in recent years.

Her relationship with Bosco had constantly fluctuated. On occasion, whenever they both needed a respite from the world and its woes, they fell into each other's arms as a source of solace. Bosco made her feel like there were still things that mattered, that she was still important. Like she wasn't a complete and utter failure. However, there were times when everything grew that little too much and she forced him away instead, refused to deal with the task in hand. Besides, it was wrong for her to even consider dating Bosco, letting him be more to her than he already was. It was against the rules, spelled out in black and white in the handbook she'd been handed on her very first day with the CBI. Being in a relationship with Jane had been morally dubious, but at least it wasn't breaking the rules set down by a workplace she loved. She hated just how willingly she flagrantly disobeyed instructions now, even more so than she loathed how the job had changed her. Once upon a time, she used to care about such things, but now she picked what to follow and what to ignore.

It reminded her of Jane's attitude.

Or rather, it reminded her of what Jane used to be like before his breakdown.

He always liked to pick and choose what to listen to and what not to. It was half the reason why she had spent a lot of time smoothing down ruffled feathers and dealing with a pile of complaints. Lisbon always grew annoyed with him at work, simply because he never seemed to realize the importance of their work and trivialized it. He caused more hassle than was entirely necessary and constantly ran the risk of letting guilty people walk free. However, he also added that little spark of excitement back into it. It made her feel like they were actually doing proper police work rather than relying on technology for all the answers. And then there was how he made her feel outside of work. Like she actually had a life which didn't revolve purely around the job and she was actually a woman, deserving of a man's love.

Like it was worth it for somebody as interesting as him to actually care so deeply about someone like her.

But he was gone now, out of her life. There was no point in dwelling on the past. She couldn't change what had happened, only change how she thought about it. If she allowed it to define her, she wouldn't be able to move on in life. Lisbon knew that she'd be stuck in the same kind of limbo she had been for the past twelve months, torn between two men and not really deserving to be with either.

She still felt a little guilty about pretty much deserting Jane and ignoring Sophie's phone calls. But what was she meant to do? Lisbon had been hurt so many times in her past before, that her every instinct was crying at her to simply get out of there and avoid the situation. Maybe one day, if she heard that Jane had recovered, then she'd be able to face him again. She couldn't hold what had happened against him, not when he hadn't been completely himself.

But until then, she was just happy to wait and carry on living her life as if she'd never known him. That way, it was easier for her to deal with it.

xxx

"Hello, Patrick."

Jane glanced over to see Sophie standing at the door, smiling. That didn't mean much; the psychiatrist had been in a good mood with him for the past month. For a good two weeks, she had even been hinting at the possibility of discharging him. But as far as he was concerned, it was all talk. He'd been fine for months now, hadn't had any 'visits' from Red John or Angela for a long while. If he'd had his own way, he'd have reclaimed his independence ages ago.

And found Lisbon as soon as feasibly possible.

He was disappointed in her. Jane had honestly thought that he meant more to her than she had shown. Though Sophie claimed otherwise, she hadn't visited once in just over twelve months. She had just seemed to forget that he even existed while he'd been trapped like a caged animal, desperate for freedom and contact with the outside world. After he'd made a little progress in his doctor's eyes, Sophie had allowed him phone calls and letter-writing equipment. It was a right he'd been denied for a good couple of months, but as soon as he'd shown signs that he wasn't going to cause himself or others injury, she allowed it. Most of the time, he attempted to contact Lisbon, but she stubbornly ignored every letter and every call. After four months of no contact, he'd simply given up. It was her choice, not his. If she'd responded just once, he would have believed that she thought it worthwhile to spend time on him. He'd also tried calling Danny once, but he had nothing to say. Had angrily stated that it was Jane's fault that Angela and Charlotte were dead and slammed down the phone. He was right, more accurate than even he probably knew, but that didn't matter. That was still a secret which he had no intentions of revealing, not to Sophie, not to the police, not even to Lisbon.

There was only one living person who knew the truth.

That was Red John, whoever he was.

The serial killer had probably heard, one way or another, that he had been accused of the murders of his wife and child. It wouldn't have been surprising if Red John had connections within the CBI. The case files which Jane had been exposed to suggested that he could quite easily have many influential people on his side. After all, he had avoided capture for a good eight years already. Well, provided he hadn't been apprehended while Jane had been incapacitated. Jane was fairly certain he hadn't; if that were the case, he would probably have found out. Though she was ignoring him for reasons unknown, Jane had a feeling that Lisbon would have wanted to tell him that his family's 'killer' was behind bars, even if she didn't believe he would understand the ramifications.

That meant, if he ever was released, he'd have to do everything in his power to apprehend the serial killer. If he didn't, it meant that the carefully constructed web of lies would soon disintegrate.

"Patrick?"

He'd almost forgotten about her presence. Jane had gotten so caught up in his own thoughts, his own pent-up anger, that he had just disregarded the presence of his psychiatrist. It had gotten to the stage where he believed that Sophie never had anything useful to say. She'd done her job; she'd silenced Angela and Red John. He didn't need anything else from her except for his freedom.

"Hello, Sophie."

"I have some good news."

"What?"

He hauled himself up to a sitting position and cocked his head inquisitively. With a flourish, she pulled some paperwork from behind her back and handed it to him. Quickly, Jane scanned the information. All that was left to do was for him to sign, in the places which Sophie had kindly marked with an 'x'.

"Does this mean?"

She nodded vigorously and handed him a ballpoint pen. "Yes. Once this is completed, you're free to leave here."

"Thank you."

"_Provided_ you live by certain guidelines."

Jane rolled his eyes. Of course there was going to be some catch. He'd known that from the moment he had gotten himself thrown into the mental institution. Sophie quickly rattled through what she needed to but Jane barely listened. He didn't need to know that he wasn't allowed to own a gun for the next five years; he had no intention of owning one in the first place. Most of what she said was probably as inane as that first statement. He didn't care, he just wanted to get out of there as soon as feasibly possible.

Jane signed quickly in all the appropriate places and thrust the paperwork back into her hands.

"Right, so can I leave now then?"

"Don't you want to make some calls? Get somebody to pick you up?"

"I'll take a cab."

"Are you sure?"

"I am. I've wasted enough time in here."

Tentatively, Sophie wrapped an arm around his shoulder and gave him an affectionate squeeze. Considering his mental status less than twelve months ago, he had made exceptional progress and she was proud of him. He was her last patient too; she was finding dealing with people was wearing her a bit thin and had accepted an offer to move into pure research. It was an interesting project and one she had willingly grabbed with both hands. The only clause was that she remained Jane's doctor until he was discharged. And that moment was now.

"Be well, Patrick."

"And you," he muttered before slipping out of the door.

He knew exactly what he wanted to do: find Lisbon and get some answers.

Though, that could wait until morning. First thing he wanted to do was go home and relax. Indulge in a few simple pleasures that he'd been denied during his hospitalization.

xxx

When Lisbon woke, a heavy arm was draped across her bare midriff. She scrunched up her eyes in displeasure; the bright sunlight hurt and she wasn't really ready to get up. However, she knew she had to. If she didn't, she would be late for work and that just wouldn't do. Van Pelt was due to start today and she had to make sure she was early enough to receive her new rookie. With a sigh, Lisbon turned over to see Bosco, still sleeping peacefully. She knew that she should regret finding herself in his bed yet again, but somehow she couldn't bring herself to do that. They had an agreement now; sex with no strings attached. If they needed each other, if one of them had had a bad day for whatever reason and needed a release, they only had to turn to one another. That way, they got to indulge in each other's company without the sense of guilt hanging around their necks. They weren't in a romantic relationship and therefore, they technically weren't breaking any rules.

Technically.

If he ever found out, Lisbon wasn't sure that Minelli would see it that way. He still hadn't forgiven her for the Jane debacle, for dating a married man who was working in some capacity for the CBI. But that was in the past, ancient history as far as she was concerned. There was nothing she could do about it. She wouldn't change the past, even if she was given the opportunity to do so. Her time with Jane had been precious, despite the fact that it had been cut tragically short.

She wondered how he was doing. If she'd ever see him again.

And if she did, what the hell she could say to him.

Her last memories of him were not of the attempted suicide, but of the fact that in his delirious state, he had attempted to kill her. As she moved Bosco's arm and hoped that it wouldn't disturb him, she realized just how much she hated that. How she couldn't move on from the worst point of that relationship in favor of thinking about the better instead.

Lisbon dived into the shower, shuddering as the cold water crashed down upon her sensitive skin. At least it was waking her up though. It was also doing a good job at distracting her from nagging thoughts. Whenever she slept with Bosco, it always seemed inevitable that her thoughts strayed to Jane. It was the only time she allowed herself to do so, the rest of the time she was quite happy to think that she had moved on. Pretend that he hadn't been an important figure in her life and they'd just drifted apart. However, in those quiet early morning moments when she dared thinking about her sham of a love life, she realized that she was still unable to completely let go of him.

It didn't take her long to get ready. As she was about to leave the house, Bosco was just getting up and she bid him a courteous farewell. No kisses though; that was the kind of thing reserved for relationships and it helped them both to maintain that fragile borderline between love and desire. They could never have anything more, unless one of them chose to leave the CBI for one reason or another. It didn't bother her too much any more, not now she had finally come to terms with the role Bosco was playing in her life. As far as she was concerned, it was better to take the little she could have instead of denying herself entirely. Besides, if she had completely given herself over to Bosco, it would never have worked. She knew that she was still hurt by the disintegration of her relationship with Jane for far too long. Half of her still wasn't even sure she was ready for another proper relationship. If she couldn't sleep with Bosco without thinking about Jane, then she knew she still had problems. Probably because, regardless of the fact that she had attempted to cut him out of her life, it still lacked a proper sense of closure. She was still hanging on to that last shred of hope, the one which told her that Jane, when sane, loved her entirely. And although the courts had decided he wasn't mentally fit, that man was still in there somewhere.

When she arrived at work, Cho was already in the office. She smiled briefly at him before heading over to the kitchenette to fix herself a coffee. It was an important part of her routine and if she didn't, chances were that she'd snap at Van Pelt before the poor girl even started properly. As the kettle was boiling, Cho came to join her, fishing out a bottle of water.

"Boss."

"Hi Cho."

"You have a visitor in your office."

"Van Pelt's arrived early?"

Cho shrugged his shoulders and disappeared back into the bullpen. While Lisbon often appreciated her subordinate's lack of small talk, sometimes she knew she would prefer it if he said a little more. There was only so much information you could glean from slight gestures and a handful of words. Cursing under her breath, she finished making her coffee as quickly as she could before rushing to her office. If Van Pelt was early, it was obvious she was trying to make a good impression, and show that she was eager. However, it also gave Lisbon minimal time to prepare herself.

When she saw the shadowy figure through her blinds, she frowned. That definitely was not Van Pelt. Quickly, she rushed forward and opened the door.

"Hello Teresa," Jane spoke lightly. "Have you missed me?"

**TBC…**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **Sorry, other writing projects distracted me from updating this.

Thanks to: Famous4it, xxxBekaForEvaxxx, Kaslyna and Leland Adama for commenting on part fifteen. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Sixteen**

"Patrick?"

"It's nice to see that you remember my name, then."

Jane's tone was dry and sarcastic. Lisbon flinched in response; she knew that if she'd see him again, he would always be at least a little irritated. That didn't mean that when it actually happened, it didn't hurt. It was like being told you were about to receive a jab; you could brace yourself all you liked, but when the needle pierced the skin, it was still a short, sharp shock. With a sigh, she pushed past him, placed her coffee on her desk and sat down. She laced her hands together and observed him as he took the seat opposite her, not waiting for an invitation. That didn't surprise her; he was clearly feeling much more like his usual self and therefore, manners were completely below him.

"What do you want?"

"To talk to you. Obviously."

"Well, I'm kind of busy right now."

"Like you were too busy to see me for twelve months, Teresa? Really?" he snarled and she tried her best to remain calm. "Is that how little I mean to you?"

"I don't really have time for this-"

"I'm not going anywhere."

Lisbon almost laughed as he stared at her defiantly, making it known just how insistent he was that they were going to have this chat there and then. She glanced at the clock on her computer. Van Pelt was due to arrive at any given moment. It wouldn't look professional if the new rookie walked in on herself and Jane, mid-argument. But that was something she was determined not to let happen. Of course she wanted to talk to him; deep down she was thrilled to discover that he had made a complete recovery. Or rather, had regained enough of his sanity for the courts and Sophie to believe he was safe (enough) to be left to his own devices. But really, it was something that could wait until later. That evening, perhaps. They were having a rather quiet time when it came to cases, something which relieved Lisbon a little. It gave her time to concentrate on welcoming Van Pelt instead of worrying about catching yet another killer. And it would also mean she could have time to have a heart to heart with Jane. To try and work out where they stood with each other and the repercussions his breakdown had on them as a couple.

"Look. I'll meet you tonight if…"

"Don't you think I've waited long enough for some answers?"

"And did _you_ really think I would waste a whole year of my life waiting for something that might never have happened?"

She glared at Jane and wasn't disturbed by the gentle knock on the door. After a little more persistent knocking, the person slowly opened the door and Lisbon finally tore her gaze away from Jane. Her heart sank a little when she saw a nervous red-headed woman standing in the door frame. Technically, she was still early, but that was something Lisbon expected. Had their roles been reversed, she would probably have made sure she arrived at a similar time. Quickly, she rose to her feet and closed the gap between herself and Van Pelt. With a firm shake of the hand, she welcomed the younger woman into her office and stared at Jane pointedly.

"I'm not disturbing anything, am I?" Van Pelt queried politely, keen to make sure that she and her new boss didn't get off on the wrong foot.

"Not at all," Lisbon assured her. "Mr. Jane was just leaving, weren't you?"

"No."

"No?" she echoed, incredulously. She had almost forgotten just how petulant and childlike Jane could be on occasion.

"No. I'd quite like to get this over and done with, personally."

"Well**,** I'm afraid that Agent Grace Van Pelt and I have some very important paperwork to go through and I know just how dull and arduous you find that."

"You're right," he conceded. "So, shall we say eight at Bella Italia, then?"

"Fine," she replied with a decisive nod. At least he was finally seeing sense. " Hang on a second…"

Jane turned on his heels to gaze at her again. He'd been waiting for her mind to finally catch up. It was sweet, really. She was still just as slow as she'd always been before her morning coffee.

"Who let you in anyway? You have no right to be here."

"Later," he replied with a smirk. "Didn't you just say that you and the lovely Grace here have to waste precious hours of your life over pointless bureaucracy?"

"It's not pointless!"

"If you say so," Jane said coolly. "I'll see you later."

She watched as Jane finally left, sauntering down the corridor as if he owned the place. Lisbon had no idea what he had planned for the rest of the day and at that moment, she didn't care. Jane wasn't her priority, not any more. Not since the courts had decided he needed institutionalizing. Right now, what she needed to do was tie up a few more loose ends with Van Pelt before letting the younger agent tackle their computer systems. The girl was meant to be adept with technology and Lisbon hoped she'd be able to do some much-neglected work on a couple of their cold cases almost immediately.

"So, Van Pelt. I'd just like to say welcome to the CBI once more…"

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Call me Lisbon. Or boss," Lisbon said immediately. "Now, let's get some work done, shall we?"

xxx

"Come in."

Minelli's eyes widened in shock when Patrick Jane entered his small office. He'd been expecting one of his senior agents to walk in, probably coming to update him on their work progress or to inform him that the D.A. had assigned a case to them. Or possibly, his secretary who was meant to be fetching him coffee as he signed off on some paperwork. Certainly not Jane. The last he'd heard was that he was still locked up in some mental institution. Lisbon had told him just how far he'd gone off the rails, and frankly, the director doubted that the man would ever recover. Even when he'd been technically sane, he seemed like he had several screws loose.

Whatever Lisbon had seen in him, he couldn't even imagine.

He'd tried to stop judging his favorite senior agent. Tried to accept that she had made one poor decision and was finally moving on, but sometimes it was difficult. Lisbon was like the daughter he'd never had and therefore, he was particularly protective of her. When he found out, in court of all places, that she had willingly disregarded sacred wedding vows, he couldn't believe it. Not only did it seem to go against every grain of her character, but it also contradicted her Catholic upbringing. She had always seemed like such an honest, reliable person and the idea of her dating a married man just didn't feel right. Then again, it was Patrick Jane. That man had always had the power to get underneath the steeliest of exteriors. Minelli quickly wondered whether he still did, now that he'd had a breakdown.

And what the hell Jane was doing in his office at that very moment**?**

Swallowing deeply, he loosened his tie and watched as Jane settled down on the leather couch, reclining as if he belonged there. Minelli raked a hand through his thinning hair and scrutinized the blond. The sooner he got some answers, the better.

"You're wondering why I'm here."

"And?"

"I want to work the Red John case."

Minelli didn't even pause to think. Jane was a victim, not a cop. The Red John case was particularly sensitive and the evidence, though inconclusive, had indicated that the serial killer had cost him the lives of his family. If Jane antagonized him again, what cost would it be that time? The agents he worked with? His own life? Minelli didn't even want to consider it. Besides, regardless of how Jane felt about his wife, losing both her and his daughter had clearly taken its toll on the man. Why else would he have spent a year locked up in the loony bin? That was a whole other kettle of fish. The courts and his doctor may have certified him as being sane once more, but that wasn't evidence that it wouldn't happen again. Anyway, that was assuming that he hadn't just broken out of whatever psychiatric ward he'd been held on. His previous experiences of working with Jane had taught Minelli that nothing was improbable when it came to the supposed psychic.

"No way."

"Not even going to stop and think about that?"

"Not for a second."

"If you're worried about Red John hurting Lisbon…"

"Lisbon doesn't work the Red John case any more."

For the first time, Jane actually looked surprised. Minelli felt like taking a photograph and framing it. It would be perfect evidence that the blond, despite his apparent connection to the afterlife, didn't actually know everything.

"Why not?"

"She got too close to it," Minelli answered, despite the fact that he didn't have to explain everything to Jane. He wasn't his employee any more and therefore, he didn't owe him any answers. "We needed a fresh set of eyes working it."

"Ah," Jane nodded, seeming to understand his methodology. "Okay then. If not the Red John case, let me work with the Serious Crimes Unit."

"Why?"

Realistically, Minelli knew he didn't need an answer. It was obvious. Jane wanted to be close to Lisbon again. He probably wanted to try and seduce her again and to rekindle what they once had.

"Because I need a job. And I close cases."

"Why not another unit? Road Collisions or Petty Thefts?"

"Meh, they're not my speed."

"You mean Lisbon isn't lead agent of either of those units."

Jane opened his mouth to retort, but quickly closed it and nodded instead. Minelli had seen straight through his transparent arguments to the real reason he wanted to be back with the SCU. There was no point in pretending otherwise.

"Fine," Minelli eventually said, almost cringing as he did so.

"Pardon?"

"Yes, you can consult on cases for the Serious Crimes Unit again."

"Thank you. You won't regret it."

"I already do. Come back tomorrow and I'll have a contract ready for you to sign."

As Jane thanked him once more, Minelli turned away and tried to get on with his work. Why the hell did he give into him so quickly? It wasn't like him. Then again, he knew Jane had all sorts of powers of persuasion and he wouldn't put it past him to hypnotize him if he hadn't willingly agreed. Then there was the CBI's current appearance in the media. It had taken a bit of a hit and having someone like Jane, speeding up the rate at which cases were closed, could only help. Provided they kept the level of complaints down. He could only hope that he had made the right decision to hand him straight back to Lisbon. Last time, she had been the only senior agent with a remote chance of controlling him. Probably because she had been sleeping with Jane at the time. Quietly, Minelli prayed that she would be able to work her magic over him again and that this time, she would remain immune to his charms. Or, if she didn't for whatever reason, that nothing serious happened to her because of her liaisons with him.

xxx

Lisbon glanced at her watch and briefly wondered where the day had gone. It was already ten p.m.

She had been distracted from her plans, unsurprisingly enough, by a call from the D.A.'s office. A woman had been found washed up on the river bank, though she hadn't drowned. The cause of death was a gunshot wound to the back of her head. Despite a whole day's frantic search, they were still yet to identify the victim. It was cases like this she found frustrating, but Lisbon was trying not to let it show. Briefly, she smirked to herself. This case was definitely throwing Van Pelt straight in at the deep end. That was probably a good thing; there was nothing like a baptism of fire to get somebody acquainted with the job. With a sigh she stared back down at the slim manila file. Lisbon had a feeling it was going to be one of those cases. When she looked up again, Jane was standing in front of her with a murderous expression written across his features. Then, she mentally slapped herself. She had completely forgotten about meeting Jane; the day's events had distracted her from those last-minute plans that had been made that morning. Work had a habit of doing that; it was something he should be familiar with. However, the look he was giving her suggested he wasn't in a particularly forgiving mood.

She didn't blame him. Had he actively ignored her for a year, she wouldn't be either.

"Take a seat," she muttered, indicating to the chair opposite her.

Jane didn't bother sitting down, but did place both of his hands on the desk and leaned intently forward. Lisbon knew what he was trying to do; to intimidate her into answering his every question. She wasn't going to fall for it that easily though; Jane obviously had forgotten that she was pretty adept at interrogations herself.

"You forgot."

"A case came up. You know what it's like."

"Why didn't you call?"

"Because my work is more important than previously organized engagements. I'm sorry, Patrick, but you have to understand…"

"You have priorities. Work before everything else. You never used to be like that."

Lisbon raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Fine, you weren't always such a martyr to your career. You actually remembered to cancel your other plans," he clarified and Lisbon looked satisfied with the rephrasing. "So…"

"So?"

"Why didn't you visit me?"

"I did."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really. And you tried to kill me, so forgive me for not wanting to risk life and limb just to see you again."

"I don't remember that."

"Yeah, well, you wouldn't."

He sat and tried to take hold of her hand. Lisbon immediately pulled it away and Jane looked visibly disappointed at her reluctance. After a moment's silence, he placed his hands back on his lap and sighed heavily.

"I needed you, Teresa," he stated, clearly anguished. "I was…"

There was a knock at the door and Jane muttered something indistinct under his breath. It seemed like he was doomed to be interrupted each and every time he attempted to clear the air with Lisbon. He turned to glare at their intruder; it was another agent, one whom he didn't recognize. The bearded man clearly knew Lisbon well; the look of affection in his eyes spoke volumes.

"Sam?"

"I knew you were still here," Sam started and quickly tried to gather his thoughts. "I didn't know you had company."

Lisbon pinched her nose. She had never wanted Jane and Bosco to meet. Considering her relationship with the pair of them, things were likely to get messy. They were both very protective of her, and knowing them, they both probably thought they had her best interests at heart. Interests which clashed horrendously.

"Sam, this is Patrick Jane," she muttered quickly, wanting to get it over and done with. "Patrick, this is Sam Bosco. He was…"

"Your senior at the SFPD. I remember."

They fell silent as both men scrutinized one another. Bosco quickly realized that this was the man who had broken Lisbon's heart a year ago, the man who had attempted to kill her. He was also the widower of Angela Ruskin-Jane and father to Charlotte Jane, Red John's latest victims. Jane, however, was reading Bosco like he were an open book. It didn't take him long to work out that he was a straight-arrow cop, who liked to do things traditionally. There was a hint of arrogance, something that had probably been bruised a little by a recent separation or divorce. He was also sleeping with Lisbon. The way he'd passed her desk and allowed a gentle hand to rest on her shoulder said as much.

Bastards, the pair of them.

Jane had never considered his relationship with Lisbon to be over. However, she had clearly thought otherwise. Why else would she have promptly replaced him with an overweight, bearded man who clearly worshipped the ground she walked on?

"You're sleeping together."

"What? No," Lisbon retorted, albeit a little too quickly.

"Oh please. You know you can't lie to me."

"We're not lovers. We couldn't…"

"I never said you were lovers. Just that you're having sex with each other."

Lisbon glared at Jane. She should have known it would take him merely seconds to work it out. The only problem would be silencing him.

"Patrick…"

"There's no need to patronize me," Jane interrupted. "I know what you're going to say: that even if you wanted to be in a relationship with him, you couldn't because it's against the rules."

"I'll just… come back tomorrow…" Bosco quickly stated and promptly left, not waiting for a response from either Lisbon or Jane.

"You know what? Forget dinner. You obviously have more important things to worry about," Jane said as soon as the door slammed shut. "I'll see you at work tomorrow."

"Pardon?"

"Work. I'm consulting for you again. You mean you didn't know?"

"Obviously not," she replied dryly.

When Jane had left, she rested her head on her desk and wished that all of her problems would just disappear. This was such a mess and to make matters worse, it was something that would have been entirely preventable. Now, she just had to try and apply damage limitation as soon as feasibly possible.

If she could, in this instance. Jane and Bosco were both equally stubborn.

**TBC…**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: **Sorry, haven't updated this in a while. I've been distracted by my Skins Big Bang fic and fics for the Paint It Red ficathon...

Thank you to: Kaslyna, watchyouwalk and Famous4it for reviewing part sixteen. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

**Part Seventeen**

At nine a.m. sharp, Bosco knocked lightly on Lisbon's office door. Almost as soon as he had left the night before, he had wanted to turn back and head straight back to her. He hated that Jane's reappearance was like a dark, heavy storm cloud that lingered above them. Of course he didn't resent the man for getting better; what had happened to him had been awful. No man deserved to lose his daughter, least of all to a serial killer. As for his wife, well he had to love her, deep down, didn't he? Otherwise, why would he have married the woman in the first place? Though the breakdown was probably unsurprising, lesser men had broken under considerably less strain, it was still unfair that it had happened on top of the loss of his family. As for his previous relationship with Lisbon, well, that was their business. Bosco had no claim over her and he doubted that Jane did either. She had her own mind and Bosco was certain Jane was aware of that as he was.

Still, he couldn't be certain that Lisbon would even want anything to do with Jane anymore. She had made it very clear to him that that part of her life was over, that she didn't even want to talk about it with him. Besides, when he'd left her alone with Jane, things were getting heated. It seemed like the pair actively loathed each other. However, Bosco thought it was more a case of them loathing the situation they had found themselves in. If Red John had never killed Jane's family, if Jane had never lost it, then maybe things would be different for them. Jane might have left his wife, set up a home with Lisbon. Things could have just fizzled out and that would have been the end of it. The point was, he simply didn't know what would have happened if their relationship had been allowed to take a natural course.

The question wasn't what had happened between them, but what happened next. It was entirely possible that just after he'd left, they'd fallen into one another's arms, reunited after a terrible year apart. It was also possible that Jane could have simply left the headquarters, after getting closure with Lisbon, never to be seen by the CBI again.

Whatever happened, Bosco didn't want to be in the middle of it.

Too many times in the past, he'd almost been caught in situations like this. His gut instinct made him want to avoid the situation as much as feasibly possible. Half the reason he had settled with Mandy in the first place was because it seemed so simple, so easy to be with her. Then a flame from her past had appeared and she'd kicked him out. Exchanged him for that smug bastard with his flash car and well-paid job, taking their boys with her. It had broken his heart and if he wasn't careful, it could happen all over again with Lisbon.

Provided he didn't put an end to it right here, right now before he gre_w too_ attached.

"Hey Sam."

"Teresa."

As always, he placed a coffee down in front of her and she smiled gratefully before taking a sip. He watched as she straightened her desk before regarding him seriously. Briefly, he wondered what was going through her mind. But then again, he almost always did. Lisbon always had a habit of keeping things to herself and sometimes, Bosco wished she would just share more willingly. He glanced at his hands, tearing his gaze away from her. The sooner he did this, the better. Really, they should never have agreed to their arrangement; it was always going to cause heartache sooner or later. For twelve months, they had lied to themselves, insisted that they wouldn't get attached. That the sex meant nothing. If it really meant that little, then why did this hurt so much?

"How did last night go? With Patrick?"

"You don't want to know."

"That badly, huh?"

"Yes, that badly," she answered, with a steely tone to her voice.

"I'm sorry," Bosco replied, though it was clear he didn't really mean it.

He soon fell silent. Half of him was pleased; at least she hadn't fallen straight back into his arms as if nothing had happened. It meant that she saw a little integrity in whatever it was they had. Or rather, he hoped that was what it meant. Bosco remembered late night discussions with her, where they had insisted that they wouldn't get in the way of each other's happiness. That if somebody else came on the scene, then they would respectfully withdraw away, to allow the other that little shred of hope without complication. As far as he was concerned, that was what he was doing. The only difference was that he was doing it preemptively.

"We can't do this any more," he said quickly, looking anywhere but at her. "We should never have…"

"Nothing's going to happen with Patrick. It's in the past… Sam, look at me."

"No."

"Why not?" she enquired irritably.

"Damn it, Teresa. This is difficult enough as it is!"

"You mean it, don't you?" she whispered sadly. "You really think Patrick Jane is that much of a threat, do you?"

"Well, wouldn't you? He got under your skin once, when he was still married. Why won't it happen again?"

"He's working full-time for the CBI now. I could no more start a proper relationship with him than I can with you."

"You mean to say you've felt _nothing_ for the past year?"

"Don't twist my words," she said darkly before lowering her voice. "Of course I have, but we've always known that we can never have more than this."

"Fine," he replied, albeit a little stiffly. "It's been… fun, but I can't do it anymore."

"You sure?" she asked and he nodded. "Well, I hope we can remain friends, at least."

"We'll see."

xxx

"I bring good news."

"That'll be a first," Lisbon muttered under her breath. "Well? What is it?"

"Our victim is… Christine Porter."

Lisbon blinked. Jane, typically, was acting as if this revelation should mean something to her. If she weren't dead, it would have been a good thing for Christine. Being unfamiliar with the police meant that she hadn't been in serious trouble in the past. However, she was and that meant they had to inform the girl's family that she was deceased instead. With a sigh, she started gathering together her belongings. This was always the worst part of the job; telling somebody that their loved one wouldn't be coming home. She'd been there before, twice, and remembered the sinking feeling of dread that she had experienced when told that her parents had died. Nothing, not even catching the person responsible, brought anyone back. People could harp on about closure all they wanted, but even the knowledge of who killed them didn't stop the pain.

Jane followed her out into the bullpen, somewhat pleased to be back after just a year. He'd hoped for a warmer reception from Lisbon, but he couldn't have everything. Really, he was still a little irritated with her, but he knew that, given time, the feeling would diminish. Though he had been accused of getting under her skin in the past, she also had the knack of worming her way into his heart. Otherwise, he would never have had an extra-martial affair with her. The hassle simply wouldn't have been worth it, regardless of how unhappy he'd been at the time.

"Boss?"

"Yes, Van Pelt?"

"I… I did some quick research into Porter. Nothing much popped up, but she had been convicted of possessing drugs once."

Lisbon turned on her heels to face Jane, anger flashing in her eyes. He was wearing an expression of innocence, but she knew him better than that. In the past, whenever something wasn't quite right, he'd always been involved. There was no reason for that to have changed now.

"You asked her to do a search, didn't you?" she queried, trying desperately to remain calm. "Why didn't you tell me first?"

"I thought you'd appreciate the initiative," Jane replied with a shrug. "Isn't that what bosses are always looking for in their employees?"

"Yes, but…"

"But?"

"I don't appreciate being undermined by my subordinates. Least of all by a jumped-up consultant who claims to have psychic abilities and walks back in after a year's absence, acting as if he owns the place."

"Is that how little you…"

"And anyway," Lisbon interrupted, keen to avoid answering his question, "who told _you _before me?"

"Oh**,** just some person. A coroner, I think. Short, dark-haired, bit of stubble?" Jane theorized out loud. "Well, probably. Didn't recognize him. Is he new?"

"Yes, he's new," she hissed under her breath.

Quickly, she made note to admonish the coroner. Jane could have been anyone and yet, the man had just revealed details of an ongoing investigation to him. Briefly, she wondered just how long this new coroner would last. If he was to work with the SCU relatively frequently, it would only be a matter of time before Jane scared him off. She shook her head briefly before thanking Van Pelt and heading towards the elevator. When Jane didn't automatically follow, Lisbon shouted after him and he soon joined her. She didn't particularly like the idea of spending the rest of the day with him, but knew that he found talking to the deceased's family very useful when trying to solve a case. And although she didn't want him on her team, not after everything they had been through, she had him and therefore might as well make use of his skills. After all, the rest of the CBI would probably be clamoring for him, if they could. Having somebody like Jane working for you inevitably meant a higher solve rate, even if it did also lead to an influx of complaints.

Jane remained relatively well-behaved until they reached the Porter family residence. Lisbon had attempted to break the news as gently as she could, but Jane, naturally, had seen fit to interrupt. On top of that, he also managed to upset Christine's teenage sister, accuse the mother of forcing her daughter to seek solace in drugs and step on the family dog's tail. She wasn't quite sure if there was any method to his madness, but was about ready to burst. As far as she was concerned, he seemed to be relishing in their hysteria, enjoying making a scene. After shooing him out of the house, she apologized profusely to the grieving family before joining him in the van.

"Well, that was fun, wasn't it?"

"Fun? _Fun_? Jane, they just lost their daughter. That's something you, of all people, should understand."

His expression hardened and Lisbon had to tear her gaze away. Somehow, Jane looked even angrier than he had when he had appeared in her office less than twenty four hours earlier. Silently, she cursed herself for her lack of tact. Then again, she might have been a little more patient with him had he actually shown some respect for the relatives of the victim. Instead, he'd played with them, toyed with their feelings like a cat with a ball. He'd shown them as little courtesy as she had him, by dragging up his family. His dead daughter, whose killer was still on the loose.

"I'm sorry… that was unfair."

"Yes it was."

"I didn't mean…"

"Just drive, will you?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled under her breath and placed the key in the ignition.

xxx

Come morning and Jane seemed to have forgiven Lisbon for her outburst, if not her hostility towards him. It was one thing her being apprehensive about having him back in her life, but it was another entirely her being outright cold. Besides, he was the one who had been wronged. Really, he'd expected more of her. That she would actually be able to support him throughout his breakdown rather than running for the hills and pretending he no longer existed. And then there was the Bosco debacle. The Lisbon he'd known wouldn't have just fallen into bed with the next man in line, so why had she started a relationship with him? What had gone wrong?

It had been a long while since he'd even considered them, but maybe the voices in his head had been right. Maybe he hadn't understood herquite as well as he'd assumed.

It wasn't as if he could really read minds, despite what he'd pretended as a kid and throughout his career. Reading body language was a skill he possessed, but it wasn't the same as actually knowing precisely what was on someone's mind.

Jane stared at Lisbon intently as she drove, seemingly oblivious to the attention she was getting from him. All she was focused on was getting to the address in question. The evening before, leads that Cho and Rigsby had been chasing up had suggested that on the night of her murder, Christine had visited a drug dealer. Her friend had been reluctant to share the information but Cho, naturally, had managed to get it out of the nervous girl. Now it was their job to find out if this dealer was responsible.

For some reason, Jane thought it was unlikely, or rather, he hoped not. It seemed just too clichéd. Too easy. And if the answer was that obvious that meant that his first case back on the job would be mind**-**numbingly boring. He'd had enough of boredom to last him a lifetime in the mental institution, in Sophie's care. Now that he was out and free to roam the streets, the last thing he wanted was more tedium.

"Can you remember how to behave like a civilized human being or do I have to handcuff you to the car?"

He jolted from his reverie, slightly surprised that anyone had actually bothered talking. Jane had half expected the frosty silence to remain until they arrived at their destination. Then again, it wasn't that much of a shock that it were Lisbon's tones that cut through the quietness like a knife. Nor that all she could be bothered to say was a barbed retort in his direction. It was no matter. Two could play at that game.

"Meh, you know I'd just pick them anyway."

"Jane…"

"What? Are you expecting trouble or…"

"No, I'm expecting you to _cause _trouble, like you did yesterday."

"Don't worry, I can be good."

"I'll believe that when it happens."

Lisbon started ignoring him and instead, turned her attention to her colleagues in order to run down what she expected of them. She had lied; she was expecting their dealer to be problematic, hence the reason both Rigsby and Cho had come along for backup. In the past, if she thought everything would run smoothly, she would have been more than happy to just take Jane along to talk to a person of interest. It was moments like that when they got to spend time alone, to simply indulge in each other's company, completely guilt-free. They were technically working, so weren't doing anything wrong and were able to act as any normal couple did instead of hiding under a mask of professionalism. He hadn't expected that, not yet, but he still wanted to be alone with her. The more time they spent, just the two of them, the sooner they would be back on the same page.

Then again, she'd changed. They both had. He couldn't just expect everything to slot back into place and be exactly the same as it once was.

As she hadn't explicitly told him to stay in the van, he slipped out shortly after Rigsby did. If something exciting was going to happen, he didn't want to miss it simply because Lisbon didn't trust him to keep out of the way.

"Hey, get away from my property!"

Jane turned to see a wiry man with an irate expression waving a gun at him. This was presumably their suspect. Quickly, Jane looked him up and down and surmised that he looked the type to lure in pretty young girls and then swindle them for all they were worth. Clearly, he had also expected to be disturbed, otherwise why would he have bothered taking a firearm grocery shopping? This man lived on the edge, assumed the worst and right now, probably felt entirely justified for doing so. Briefly, he turned to the others. Cho's hand was already at his hip and Lisbon had her gun drawn. That was reassuring.

"We're CBI, the police," Lisbon announced, knowing that it was unlikely to quell the man's fear. "Please put down your gun and…"

Instead, he fired and Jane felt a searing pain shoot through his shoulder. Through watering eyes he noticed the man bolt in the opposite direction, immediately being pursued by Rigsby and Cho.

"Jane? Patrick, speak to me."

He opened his mouth to retort, but quickly gave up. Vaguely, he noticed Lisbon's hand graze across his forearm before he fell unconscious.

**TBC…**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: **Thanks to Famous4it, Leland Adama, watchyouwalk and Kaslyna for reviewing part seventeen. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Eighteen**

Lisbon stared at the brick wall in front of her as if it had personally offended her. She hated hospitals. The stench of disinfectant, the stark white décor, the plastic seating designed for kids and most of all, the haunting reminders of illness and death. That was something she was reminded of more than enough at work, never mind having to be exposed to it in her free time. Then again, it was her fault she was in this dingy waiting room at all. If she had been able to control Jane, to know when to say no to him and managed to keep him on a tighter leash, he wouldn't have been shot. He wouldn't be in surgery right now, having a bullet painstakingly removed from his shoulder blade. If he'd just known when to listen, realized that they were willfully heading into a dangerous situation, then maybe he would have decided to hang behind at the office with Van Pelt.

She rubbed her temples, willing the headache to disappear. The action did little to alleviate the pain, it rarely had any effect whatsoever. It was just a combination of wishful thinking and an autonomous reaction. Lisbon grabbed her bag and peered into it hopefully. The empty tub of painkillers seemed to taunt her, as if they were capable of believing she didn't deserve to be pain-free. Not while Jane…

Footsteps approached and she stood, alert, waiting desperately for news. Almost as soon as she heard them, they died away again and Lisbon sat back down with a heavy sigh, resting her head in her hands. She hated this. Waiting, not having any answers, a complete lack of control over the situation. What she would give to rewind the clocks and stop all this from happening.

The worst part was that this incident had just ripped open all those old wounds she had thought had long since healed over. She was over Jane, that was what she'd told herself day after day, for months on end. It didn't bother her what happened to him, whether or not he'd recovered from his breakdown was inconsequential in the scheme of things. She had cut him out of her life for a reason: to protect herself. And now? Now she was spiraling back to square one. He'd been back in her life for two days. Approximately forty-eight hours. Was that how weak she really was when it came to him? Obviously so. Otherwise, she wouldn't be sitting in a hospital, waiting desperately for news from a medic. Instead, she would still be at the office, questioning the drugs dealer, Harper, about his links to the Porter girl. Instead, she'd willingly turned her back on her job, left the interrogation to her second in command to drive herself mad with her thoughts. But if she hadn't, she wouldn't forgive herself. Jane was her subordinate and therefore, her responsibility.

And she still loved him. Otherwise, she wouldn't be reacting as if her heart was being torn in two by the simple fact that Jane had been hospitalized yet again.

"Teresa Lisbon?"

She jerked up to see a doctor, dressed in scrubs standing in front of her. Before bothering to say a word to him, Lisbon glanced at the clock. It had been just over three hours since Jane had been admitted and she couldn't help but wonder what had taken them so long. Had there been complications? Was he going to be okay? Would he get full mobility back in his left arm?

"You are the next of kin for Mr. Jane?"

"I am?"

"Well, that's what his medical notes say."

Lisbon nodded, somewhat relieved that Jane hadn't bothered taking the time to get his personal details updated. It saved a hell of a lot of complications in the future and meant that she could get updates on his condition without having to abuse her power as an agent for the CBI. Besides, she had a feeling, or rather she hoped, that Jane would want her to know what was going on with him. He knew just how likely she was to worry and that it would be easier for everyone in question if her mind was simply put at ease. That was, of course, provided that the medic standing patiently in front of her had good news.

"What's happened?" she asked dubiously. "Is he…"

"He's out of surgery and we believe he should make a full recovery."

"Can I see him?"

"I'm afraid not," the doctor stated, without a hint of sympathy. "Mr. Jane is not out of the woods yet and besides, it's out of visiting hours. I suggest you go home, get a good night's sleep and return in the morning."

"You do know that I'm…"

"Yes, I know who you are. And flashing your badge isn't going to make any difference."

"But he was just involved in a shooting and I need…"

"Mr. Jane is my patient and he needs his sleep. Any statements you need to take from him can wait until morning."

Lisbon stood and gave the man a withering glare. However, she accepted defeat and headed to the door. He was right; Jane's statement could wait until morning. That, however, wasn't why she had wanted to see him. She just wanted to put her mind at ease. As soon as she left the hospital, she flicked open her cell phone and dialed Cho's number. She needed to know how the case was progressing and she knew that Cho would want an update on Jane's condition too. Besides, it was going to be a long night and work would provide the ideal distraction.

xxx

Lisbon slammed her hands down on the desk in front of her and the young man jumped in response.

He'd been on edge ever since Cho and Rigsby had dragged him back to the CBI headquarters and was wearing an expression reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights. It was obvious he was feeling way out of his depth and that was probably a good thing. The night before, while she was still holed up in the hospital, they had taken the initiative to investigate Daniel Kim, Porter's on/off boyfriend and luckily for them, had come up with some hits. Rigsby had found a stash of marijuana in his van, along with a gun that matched up with the bullet found lodged in Christine Porter's brain. She had no doubt that when forensics eventually had the time, they would find Daniel Kim's fingerprints on it. That meant the case was very nearly over; a confession would just speed up the process and tighten the whole thing up.

Besides, if Kim confessed to the crime, it would mean the courts would look on him far more favorably. It would be slightly less likely that he would end up on death row, at the very least. He would prove that he was remorseful and willing to co-operate with the authorities. Of course, it wouldn't bring Porter back to life, but it would show that he actually regretted his actions. That was something the judges and juries always seemed to like, it showed some sort of reformation of character.

"So why did you do it?"

"I didn't."

"She was an innocent…"

"Yeah, right, What century you living in, lady?" Kim spat at Lisbon, irritation written across his features. "Chris was innocent, my ass."

"Funny but her parents…"

"Her parents don't know jack-shit. If she was as 'innocent' as they thought she was, she wouldn't have been hanging around with the likes of me."

"I don't know. Good women often like bad boys," Lisbon mused out loud, before adding hastily, "or so I've heard."

"Still doesn't change the fact I didn't do it," Kim answered back, not really caring about Lisbon's point of view.

Lisbon sighed. Kim's false bravado was already wearing a little bit thin. Instinctively, she glanced over her shoulder at the one-way mirror. She knew Minelli was standing behind there, along with Van Pelt and Cho, watching proceedings. Her superior often liked to pay attention to certain cases, to make sure that things were still ticking over nicely within the units he maintained. She took a deep breath; she didn't need their help. This interrogation was rather straightforward. All she had to do was find a way to trap Daniel Kim with his own words. She could see that, deep down, he was scared witless about being in an interrogation, of being accused of murder. That he was trying desperately to stay two steps ahead of her in order to get away with it.

"Oh please. I'm expecting forensics to get back to me within the hour. We both know that when they do, your fingerprints will be on the magazine of the murder weapon."

"No**,** they won't."

"Oh?"

"I've heard it all. Budget cuts, lack of resources and all that. It's all over the media. You're not expecting the results for another week at least," Kim stated confidently and Lisbon remained impassive. "Besides, even when you do, my prints won't be on there because I wiped…"

"Yes?"

"Um…"

"Go on."

"I wiped them off," he replied quietly.

Lisbon nodded. "So why did you do it?"

"I didn't mean to… she, she… I just needed some… and it all just went out of control. I didn't mean to kill her."

"But you took a gun with you. That suggests that it was premedi**t**ated."

"Yeah, well, you would say that. You have a gun on you too. Do you intend to use it?" he demanded.

"Only to protect myself and the state of California," Lisbon answered honestly, knowing that she didn't owe the perp anything.

"Well**,** that's why I have mine too."

"It's still an illegally obtained firearm."

"So?"

"I think I have all I need," she answered, switching off the tape recorder before turning to look over her shoulder. "Cho?"

Seconds later, Cho entered and lead Daniel Kim off to the holding cells. Lisbon glanced at her watch and smiled briefly. She still had half an hour to deal with the paperwork regarding Harper and Jane's shooting. Though the drugs dealer hadn't been responsible for Porter's death, he'd still attempted to kill Jane and they had plenty of drugs-related charges to hold him on. And at least they had made progress with work. That was better than nothing.

xxx

Lisbon cursed as she heard Bosco's voicemail for what felt like the thousandth time.

"_You've reached Sam Bosco. I can't make it to the phone right now, but please leave a message after the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."_

"Sam?" she started tentatively, hating the fact she was having to leave yet another message. "Sam, it's Teresa, again. Look, I just want to talk to you, okay? I hate how things are but _please_, just hear me out, okay? I**'**ll try again later, I guess…"

With a sigh, she slipped her cell phone back into her pocket before leaning against the hospital door. It didn't take her long to make it to the ward where Jane was and when she eventually arrived, with a limp bunch of roses in hand, he was asleep. Quietly, she sat beside him and watched as his chest rose and fell. Somehow, he looked vulnerable - even more so than when he had been institutionalized. Maybe it was because he was suffering from a physical injury this time around? They were always far more tangible than mental illnesses.

It didn't take long for the restless nights and days of hard work to catch up with her. Instinctively, Lisbon leaned down and allowed her head to rest on Jane's bed. It was merely a matter of minutes until she drifted off. An hour or so later, she woke with a start. Jane's fingers were running methodically through her hair. She blinked several times, attempting to refocus. Lisbon hadn't expected to fall asleep, least of all in such an uncomfortable position.

"Hello, Sleepyhead."

"Shut up, Jane."

"I forgot just how charming you can be when you've just woken up," he stated lightly and she scowled in response.

Quickly, she excused herself, realizing if she wanted to have a half-decent conversation with him, then she would need to have at least a little caffeine in her system. It didn't take her long to locate a coffee machine and soon, she returned to Jane's ward with a cup of industrial sludge which was meant to resemble a hot drink in hand. Lisbon sipped at it and Jane watched her every move, scrutinizing her behavior. It felt like an age since he'd last looked at her with such an expression and she didn't like it any better now.

"So," she eventually said with little conviction. "How're you feeling?"

"Oh**,** you know. Sore. How you'd expect after you've been involved in a shooting."

"I _told_ you to stay in the van!"

"Yeah**,** and I should have listened."

"Sorry? I didn't quite catch that."

"You were right."

"Pardon?"

"I'm not saying it again."

"So, the mighty Patrick Jane admits he's wrong."

They fell silent, her words lingering in the air. Eventually, Lisbon sat back down beside him and took to staring out of the window. Anything was better than looking directly back at him, especially with his eyes seemingly piercing into her soul.

"I'm surprised you came."

"Really?"

"Yeah. After…"

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't visit you."

"Doesn't change the past."

"It doesn't but… damn it, Patrick. You nearly killed me. I know you weren't right in the head but I just couldn't face it after that. Not after my…"

Visions of her father flooded her thoughts. She hated thinking of the man he'd become after the death of his wife. The desolate, violent drunk who lashed out at those closest to him. Somebody who switched between being a potential killer and a smothering parent when he realized he'd done wrong. Waking up each and every morning and not knowing what she had to contend with that day. In a way, it had been a relief when he had died. There was no need to worry about how she was going to get through the day, whether or not she was going to be beaten half to death or have to try and escape his coddling.

The moment Jane's hands had clasped around her neck in the mental institution, it had reminded her of her relationship with her father. She couldn't live through that again, not with somebody else who claimed to love her unequivocally.

"I'm sorry too," Jane eventually said and Lisbon cocked her head slightly in confusion.

"You didn't mean it."

"Doesn't mean I can't be sorry though."

"True," she conceded.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you too."

Jane wrapped his hand around hers and smiled slightly. It was funny how life-threatening accidents could make everything seem so much simpler. Of course, he would have much rather have had the breakthrough without having to be hospitalized, but nevertheless, it didn't stop him from being pleased with this side effect. It was a turning point, of sorts. He wasn't quite sure how ready and willing Lisbon would be to commit to him, but it was a start. It meant that he hadn't entirely lost her as he had once feared.

"I better go," Lisbon muttered after glancing at the clock. "Visiting hours are nearly over…"

"Teresa?"

"Yes?"

"Where does this leave us?" he asked plaintively.

"I don't know," she answered. "I… can't say."

"You need time to think?" he supplied.

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Okay?" she stated, somewhat surprised. "You mean you're not going to try one of your Jedi mind tricks in order to get a straight answer out of me?"

"Meh, too tired for that."

"Sleep well, Patrick. I'll drop by tomorrow, if I have time."

It was getting cold when Lisbon finally got outside. She shivered and pulled her jacket closer around her body. At least she was getting somewhere with Jane. That was better than nothing. However, she had forgotten to take his statement regarding the shooting and mentally berated herself for it. That was something that would have to wait until morning now. Instead, she pulled out her cell phone and checked it, hoping desperately that she had a message from Bosco. If she could get her thoughts about him straight, then maybe she would be able sort herself out when it came to Jane as well. She scowled when she realized that he hadn't bothered to call her back and dialed his number once more.

"Sam, please, just answer. This is getting ridiculous. I won't bother calling you again. Please… just call me."

**TBC…**


	19. Chapter 19

**A/N:** Been a little while since I last uploaded a chapter of this. Thank you to Famous4it and Kaslyna for reviewing part eighteen.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Nineteen**

It took three days for the medical staff to decide that enough was enough and send Patrick Jane home to recuperate. If he was capable of wreaking so much havoc from his bed, that meant he was more than fit enough to be sent home.

Lisbon, however, disagreed. She believed that somebody needed to keep an eye on him, just in case. Normally, having someone trying to be so overprotective of him would annoy Jane. In this instance, he found it endearing and much preferred it to the alternative. Having to endure her stony silence for a year and then apathy upon his return had hurt more than he cared to admit.

Though maybe not as much as it would if she found out what he'd done to his family.

She seemed to have accepted the fact that Red John was responsible for murdering them. In a way, it was a relief. It meant that they were no longer suspicious, that he could go on working with the CBI and being close to Lisbon without worrying about them discovering the truth. Of course, he still worried that he'd slip up sooner or later. Despite the fact that he had cultivated an appearance as a man of mystery, it didn't mean he couldn't make mistakes. Everybody did sooner or later. Even Red John who remained, rather irritatingly, at large.

He rummaged around in the bottom of his chest of drawers, trying desperately to find another pair of socks. Why was it that they always seemed to disappear whenever you needed them? Instead, Jane's hands came into contact with something else, something far more solid. Intrigued, he pulled it out and examined it with interest. It was the knife that he'd killed his wife with, the only item from the crime scene that he hadn't actively destroyed. Jane knew that it was evidence of his doings and that the knife blade probably still carried traces of Charlotte's and Angela's blood. But still, he hadn't parted with it. At the time, he'd decided that he needed a memento, a reminder of what he'd done. It was also proof; if he ever needed to turn himself in for whatever reason, he could do just that.

There was a rustling of leaves outside and Jane winced as he straightened, pulling his shoulder uncomfortably. He watched as a shadowy figure bolted across his lawn and up the street. Somebody had been observing him. But why? What was the point? How did they even _know_ he was back home? Hardly anyone knew he'd been released from the mental institution, never mind the fact that he was back in Sacramento and working for the CBI.

A knock at the front door distracted him from his thoughts. That would probably be Lisbon, ready to pick him up and drag him back to her townhouse. Hastily, he shoved the knife back into the drawer and haphazardly shoved the rest of his clothing into the overnight bag. He smiled as he greeted her at the door. She looked small and tired, not helped by the fact that she had hunched shoulders and shoved her hands in her pockets. Jane didn't even need to ask her to know that the past few days had been wearing her a bit thin. She had been busy trying to balance work and set things straight with himself and Bosco. If he told her that he knew the two of them were having issues too, she would accuse him of snooping when he needed little more than to look her in the eye to work it out. Lisbon was sad and stressed, you didn't need to be as adept as he was at reading body language to notice that.

"You needn't do this, I'm more than capable of looking after myself."

"Nonsense. You've had a serious injury and I insist…"

"Meh. If our roles were reversed, you'd insist on doing everything for yourself."

"And?" she demanded.

"And I'm fine. I don't _need_ babysitting."

"But…"

"But nothing. You're doing this because you feel responsible. To ease your guilty conscience," Jane answered back.

Jane knew just how hypocritical it was to be talking about guilty consciences. After all, he was the one who was working with the CBI to pay his debt to society. To try and make himself feel better about the fact that, however he dressed it up, however much he claimed that it was self-defense, he was still a murderer.

"Besides, you don't think I'm capable of looking after myself since I was… you know…"

"That's not true," she whispered and took his hand in her own. "I care about you, Patrick. I just want to make sure you're okay and not overdoing it."

"Alright. I'll go along with it for now. Provided…"

"No," Lisbon interrupted, with a firm tone.

"You haven't even heard what I have to say yet," Jane responded petulantly.

"Fine," she answered stiffly, knowing it was the only way to appease him. "What is it then?"

"You let me come back to work."

"Absolutely not. You're on sick leave and need to recover…"

"I don't do anything physical, do I? And anyway, it means you can keep an eye on me twenty-four hours a day."

"When you phrase it like that…"

"I take it that's a yes then?"

Lisbon nodded sharply, knowing that she would probably regret it eventually and Jane broke out into a bright smile.

"Great," he said cheerfully.

"No funny stuff, though."

He smirked and decided that he would give her a week, at most, before he could break down her barriers once more.

xxx

A couple of days later and things had settled down at the office. Lisbon was grateful for it. After the past couple of days, she felt like she deserved a break, what with Jane**'**s sudden re-emergence in her life. Then there was his hospitalization and the fact that she had been effectively babysitting him for the past two nights. She wasn't about to take a vacation any time soon though; she always liked to save it for special occasions, not that there seemed to be many of late. Besides, it was impossible to know exactly when crime would pick up and she would be needed. Of course there were trends and things ebbed and flowed, but it wasn't an exact science. Still, this restful period meant that she had time to focus on catching up with her paperwork and preparing for her next court dates. It was far better to do that than to make herself potentially unavailable when another psycho struck.

Jane was dozing on the couch in her office. Lisbon had tried to shift him into the bullpen, but he was stubborn and somehow, eventually persuaded her it was for the best. Apparently, if he'd slept on the leather couch next to his desk, she wouldn't get anything done because she would have been too worried about him. Naturally, she had denied it, stating that him being in the same building as her was enough to quell her fears, but annoyingly enough, he was right. She would have been up and down every five minutes, checking that Jane was resting, that he wasn't overstraining himself and that the rest of her team were not disturbing him, or he them. Every so often, she stopped typing furiously and gazed over at him. He seemed fairly uncomfortable and didn't spend longer than five minutes in any given position. Then again, Lisbon had noticed over the past two nights, that despite being heavily drugged, he barely seemed capable of resting at all.

It was obvious there was still _something_ wrong with him, even if his doctors believed he was technically sane.

As she made note to dig a little deeper into that issue when he was fully awake, there was a knock on her office door. Lisbon looked up and beckoned Rebecca, Bosco's secretary into the room. She appeared to be a little agitated, worried about something. Then again, the fact that she had come to speak to Lisbon was unusual in itself. Major Crimes was often inundated with paperwork, especially since they had taken charge of the Red John case. The reason she had been hired at all was to take the strain off of Bosco and his unit.

"Agent Lisbon?"

"Yes, Rebecca?"

Rebecca glanced nervously over at Jane, who was doing a bad job of pretending to sleep.

"Could we have some privacy?"

"He's fine."

"Please, Agent Lisbon," Rebecca pleaded and Lisbon nodded before approaching Jane.

"Jane," she stated and he didn't respond. "Jane!"

When his eyes remained stubbornly shut, she kicked the couch and he groaned in response. Jane opened one bleary eye and regarded her with a look of contempt. Lisbon sighed in exasperation; he had to make a song and dance out of everything.

"Ow," he moaned before pulling himself to a seated position. "Just as I was drifting off to sleep…"

"Go see where Cho's got to with the Maxwell case."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

He glanced over at Rebecca and nodded slightly.

"You know, you should really work on your excuse for getting rid of me."

"_Out_," she snapped and pointed to her door.

When he left, but not without several more complaints, Lisbon sat back down and offered Rebecca a seat. Lisbon frowned when she didn't accept and watched as the woman stood opposite her, wringing her hands nervously.

"It's about Bosco."

"Oh?"

"Have you heard from him lately?"

"Not since Friday," she answered, realizing that it had been five days already. "Why?"

"He hasn't been to work all week," Rebecca explained and Lisbon's frown deepened. "He hasn't even called to explain his absence…"

"And you're worried?"

"Of course! I thought as you're friends…"

"That I might know what he's up to?"

"Yes."

"I'm sorry, Rebecca. But thank you for bringing this up with me."

"If you hear from him…"

"I'll tell you, yes."

"Thank you."

Rebecca withdrew quietly and Lisbon sunk deeper into her chair. She picked up her cell phone and fingered it lightly. On Saturday, when leaving the hospital, she had promised Bosco that she wouldn't call again, but his behavior was clearly uncharacteristic. Making her mind up, she quickly dialed his number and cursed when yet again, it went straight to voicemail.

"Sam, this is getting ridiculous. Why haven't you come to work?" she snapped angrily. "You know what? Don't answer me. I'm coming around after work, okay? Bye."

xxx

"Remind me why I have to come with you to Bosco's house," Jane stated.

"Because I don't want to leave you at my house, going through all my possessions."

"Eh, been there, done that."

"A year ago," Lisbon answered back, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the road.

"And?"

"A lot changes in a year."

"And don't I know it," Jane mumbled under his breath.

They remained in silence for the rest of the drive. Jane could tell that Lisbon was getting more and more tense by the second. He'd known that Bosco's actions had been hurting her; the two of them had shared a relationship of sorts for a year, though neither of them would dare call it such. Ever since Jane was back on the scene, Bosco had completely withdrawn again. It took a lot for Lisbon to trust somebody and it was obvious that she thought Bosco's actions felt like betrayal. Worse, really.

When they eventually arrived, Jane hung back as he watched Lisbon hammer frantically at Bosco's apartment door, then peer hopefully through the blinds. It was obvious she wasn't going to get an answer; Bosco was almost as stubborn as he was and therefore, if he really didn't want to see her, he was going to do everything in his power to avoid her. As she turned to face him again, Jane noted that she was frowning. Tentatively, he approached as she dug frantically in her pockets for her keys.

"I think something's wrong."

"You sure?"

"Yes," she snapped back and Jane recoiled slightly at her tone. "He may not want to see me, but he wouldn't use that as an excuse not to go to work. That's just not like Sam."

"If you say so."

She looked triumphant as she finally found the key she was looking for. Jane hadn't realized their relationship had moved on far enough for them to have copies of each other's keys but he didn't question it. He watched carefully as she slipped the key into the lock and pushed the door open. Somehow, he felt uncomfortable entering Bosco's apartment. Technically, they were rivals. For Lisbon's affection, in their positions at work. Bosco hadn't needed to say anything, but Jane knew that the man could only see him as a victim and believed he had no business working with the CBI.

"Sam?" she called nervously. "Sam, it's Teresa…"

Feeling completely out of place, Jane followed her through Bosco's apartment. His heart sank a little as he watched Lisbon desperately check each room one by one. Though his first and only impression of Bosco had been pretty poor, he hated the effect his disappearance was having on Lisbon. The place appeared deserted, as if Bosco was long gone and Jane was seriously doubting that they'd find anything. Or rather, if they did, it would be the absence of his passport and a few clothes, suggesting that the man had skipped town.

"Oh God," Lisbon breathed as she stared into the master bedroom.

Jane joined her and could hardly believe what he saw. On the wall directly opposite them, a trademark smiley face leered back at them, taunting them with its presence. Quickly, he glanced down. Bosco's body lay neatly on the bed, his blood staining the mattress. The cutting style, for the most part, matched every other real Red John crime scene Jane had ever been present at. The only difference was a carving knife, not dissimilar to the one Jane himself had used when his family had died, which remained stuck firmly in his chest, in the approximate position of Bosco's heart.

He didn't even want to start thinking of the repercussions. Just how much did Red John know? Would he be willing to risk showing his face in order to reveal to Lisbon the truth about his wife and daughter's murders?

"You okay?" Jane whispered eventually.

"I'm just going to call it in, get the rest of the team out here," Lisbon answered, stubbornly ignoring his question. "You want to wait here?"

Jane nodded, though he didn't really like the idea of waiting with Bosco's dead body. His eyes were transfixed by the red smiley face on the wall. It wasn't the first time he had seen a legitimate Red John face, but it was the first since he'd painted one in his wife's blood. He'd grown complacent; acted as if Red John was no longer a problem, didn't matter anymore. It didn't help that Bosco's unit had taken over the responsibility of the case either.

And now it had cost the Senior Agent his life.

When silence had returned, Jane took a step closer. Considering the bloody way his life had been taken, he seemed strangely at peace. Excepting the presence of the knife, he could merely have been sleeping, especially as Red John had taken the time to press his eyelids tightly shut. Just because he had to break MO, it didn't mean the serial killer wasn't going to do it without his normal sense of flair. He crouched over Bosco's body. The blade was pinning a note to Bosco's chest. Jane scrutinized it; Red John had been meticulous with his word placement, ensuring that not one word had been pierced by the makeshift weapon. Quickly, his eyes scanned it and he took in the message, with a familiar sense of dread enveloping him.

_Dear mister Jane,_

_I do not like poor substitutes nor people emulating my work. Nor do I like to be slandered in the media by a money-grabbing fraud and accused of crimes I did not commit. _

_You brought the fight to me, so I'm bringing it straight back to you. _

_My best to the lovely Agent Lisbon._

_Now, how do you plan to protect her? If you were a real psychic you would know what my intentions are._

**TBC…**


	20. Chapter 20

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in updating this, I've been distracted by other fic.

Thank you to: Kaslyna, xxxBekaForEvaxxx and Famous4it for reviewing part nineteen. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twenty**

"What does he mean 'poor substitutes and emulating his work'?" Lisbon demanded and Jane shrank back. "Is he saying _you're _responsible for Charlotte and Angela**'**s deaths?"

"How the hell should I know?" Jane snapped back in response.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe because it's your _job_ to consult for us on these difficult cases? Use the skills you supposedly have to find the clues we may occasionally overlook?"

"I can't believe you're taking the word of a serial killer so seriously, Teresa."

"Well**, **why shouldn't I?" she retorted. "It's a serious accusation!"

"It's Red John! He's a psycho. Maybe he just wants to frame _me_ for murder because of what I said about him on TV?"

"Isn't that a bit of an overreaction? Killing somebody's family just because they told the truth!"

"If you care to remember correctly, that's exactly what happened!"

"You never convinced me of your innocence back then," Lisbon stated angrily.

"So you're saying I'm still a suspect then?"

"And what with you attacking me in hospital…" she continued, blithely ignoring his question.

"Oh**,** so we're back to that again, are we?" Jane questioned, rising to her bait. "When are you going to let it go? I wasn't myself then!"

"Get out."

"Pardon?"

"Out, get out of my house," she clarified and Jane stared at her, aghast.

"If that's what you really want."

"It is."

"Right, fine then," he said.

"Fine," she echoed. "Bye."

xxx

Lisbon raised an eyebrow but didn't say a word as she walked past Jane on the way to Minelli's office. It had been a long night and she was dead on her feet, yet it was out of the question to take the day off. Red John had just brutally murdered Bosco. A man she was very fond of. Possibly even loved, if she dared to admit it to herself. Not only that, but he had been the lead agent investigating the serial killer's case. The whole of the CBI was in a state of disarray. Just because Bosco was a relative newbie, having been a part of the organization for just over a year, it didn't mean that he wouldn't be bitterly missed. Admittedly, by some more than others.

She stifled a yawn as she pushed open the door to Minelli's office. Lisbon knew if she allowed herself little luxuries such as that, she would feel even worse than she already did. It was bad enough that she had spent the morning breaking the news of Bosco's death to his distraught sister. It was one thing telling strangers about the death of a loved one, but another entirely when you knew the other person, however distantly. Patricia Bosco had been completely heartbroken and justifiably so. In a way, Lisbon envied the woman. Not only did she have time to come to terms with her loss, but she also had the ability to wear her heart on her sleeve and get the emotions out of her system. From childhood, Lisbon had been taught to lock down everything. Sometimes, it felt like a rather unhealthy way to deal with life's problems.

When she spotted a cardboard box, already filled with fishing trophies and pictures of Minelli's loved ones, she froze. He couldn't be thinking about resigning, not in a time of crisis, could he?

"You're not leaving, are you?" she demanded.

"No," Minelli answered immediately and offered her a seat. "No. Well, only if I have to."

"What do you mean?"

"There will be an internal inquiry into this. Seeing if there was anything I could have done to prevent Bosco's death."

"Oh."

"They'll want to be seen to be taking action. My neck's on the line, naturally. Though, of course, they could target the brass instead," Minelli mused, more trying to quell his own fears rather than Lisbon's. "Bertram, maybe…"

"So you're preparing for the worst?"

"Something like that."

"Good," Lisbon breathed and took a sip of water. "What did you want to see me about?"

Minelli took a deep breath and averted his eyes. He'd always known that Lisbon had been close to Bosco. She had worked under him at the SFPD for long enough and it seemed that since Bosco joined the CBI, their friendship had simply picked up from where it had left off. He didn't even want to think about how she was feeling right now, though she looked exhausted. Nor did he particularly like what he was about to do. It was that Patrick Jane's fault. Why the hell did the man have to be so persuasive? Minelli had taken Lisbon off the Red John case for a reason and now, he was going to have to make a U-turn on that decision. Partially because she was the most qualified agent to deal with it, but also because Red John's supposed vendetta against Jane meant that any other agent would be at serious risk of going the same way as Bosco had.

"The Red John case is yours."

"Good."

"Good?" he echoed.

"Yeah. I want to catch that bastard and get him tried and convicted in court," Lisbon answered with determination. "_Nobody_ deserves to die the way Bosco did."

"I'm glad you feel that way."

They fell silent and Minelli drifted over to the window. He peered through the blinds and noticed the crowd of cameramen and reporters beginning to gather outside. People always moved quickly in times of trouble and it was his job to reassure the masses. Tell them about Bosco and that as a result, Red John would be apprehended by his best team and soon. Minelli could only hope that what he said was the truth.

"I hate the media."

"I know," Lisbon answered.

"How do I look?" he asked and turned to face her.

Lisbon closed the gap between them and straightened his tie a little. She took a step back and nodded in approval. However much Minelli complained about the vultures congregating outside, she knew that he was the best person to deal with them. He'd be fine. They all would be, given time.

"You look great, boss," Lisbon answered honestly. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"I hope so."

xxx

Minelli's fears of losing his job proved to be unfounded. Within just one week, he had discovered that his position was safe, though several people above him had been less lucky. That didn't bother him though. What did, however, was the fact that they had already replaced Bosco without bothering to consult him on their decision. That wasn't to say he didn't approved of Senior Agent Brent Garza, however. Garza seemed to have settled in overwhelmingly quickly and got on well with the Major Crimes Unit. It was just the fact that he'd been overruled that rankled him a little.

He shook his head and tried to concentrate on what Lisbon was telling him. As she had every morning for the past seven days, she was updating him on the Red John case. Minelli watched her carefully; she looked annoyed as she mentioned that she suspected Red John had slipped through their fingers yet again. There was something she was neglecting to tell him as well, but he didn't push her for more information. He knew that Bosco's funeral was in a matter of hours and the woman was feeling strained enough as it was.

Maybe it would have been better if he had lost his job? He was getting far too old for this. However, he didn't want to just give up, leave them in the lurch. There had already been a lot of upheaval in the CBI and the last thing they needed was him running off to spend his retirement fishing and playing golf.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that again?"

"What?" Lisbon queried politely. "That, as with other Red John crime scenes, there wasn't a shred of evidence left behind?"

"No, before that."

Lisbon suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Minelli was tired, they all were. That was why he was struggling to follow everything she was saying. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if the stress was really taking its toll on their esteemed leader. Privately, she hoped it wasn't, that it was just a rough patch that he needed to work through on his own. Minelli was the closest she had had to a father figure for years and she wasn't quite ready to let go of him just yet.

Even so, when he eventually dismissed her, it was somewhat of a relief. That meant she could get back to work. Red John may have disappeared back into the shadows, but that didn't mean there wasn't work to do on the case. Bosco had made a lot of inroads into the case, things she would never have thought of herself and therefore, she had a lot to catch up on. That was probably a good thing; she needed a decent distraction right now. The last thing she wanted to do was think too deeply about Bosco and what had happened to him. And especially the fact that she never had a chance to reconcile with him before his death. Lisbon knew it would take a while for her to come to terms with that, but that didn't mean she wanted to be thinking about it twenty-four-seven.

She cursed under her breath when she spotted Jane walking directly towards her. Since their latest spat, when she had effectively accused him of murdering his family, Lisbon had been actively avoiding him. It was bad enough trying to deal with the Bosco debacle on her own, never mind having the incorrigible fake psychic prodding and poking around where he wasn't wanted.

"What do you want, Jane?" Lisbon snapped.

"Just been talking with Senior Agent Garza. Interesting man."

"I don't care."

"No, you wouldn't, would you?"

"Is there any reason why you've stopped me? Because I really don't have time for mindless chitchat."

"You, me, dinner. Tonight," he stated quickly.

"Pardon?"

"You heard."

"Is this really the place to ask, Jane?" she hissed and glanced around nervously.

"As good as any, I think," Jane said lightly. "Especially given that you refuse to spend two seconds in the same room as me."

Lisbon briefly considered Jane's offer. She stared him directly in the eye and decided that, for once in his life, he was probably being genuine. That was saying something, considering that their work colleagues all believed he was able to communicate freely with the dead. She'd heard them whispering, wondering just how often he talked to his dead wife and daughter. Half of her found it hysterical, the rest terribly sad. If only they weren't so gullible and knew the full story.

"And why should I spend another minute in your company?"

"Because you're genuinely sorry about your accusations," Jane said, believing that she was, despite the fact that she technically shouldn't be as she was right. "And, deep down, you still love me."

"Why do you have to do this?" she whined.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yes, fine, whatever," Lisbon eventually agreed, not in the mood to argue anymore. "Now can I go and get some work done?"

xxx

Apprehensively, Lisbon straightened her skirt before scrutinizing her appearance in the mirror for what felt like the thousandth time. She felt like a nervous schoolgirl, about to head out on her very first date. It was utterly ridiculous; she was having dinner with _Jane_. Something which she had done so many times in the past. Besides, it wasn't as if she was even looking forward to seeing him, was it? He practically had to bend her arm to get her to give in. Something, as she realized in hindsight, which hadn't been as difficult as she made it out to be. Maybe there was still something there? Perhaps she should be more willing to give it another chance. Yes, they had argued and yes, she was still angry with him, but still. The situation had caught her off-guard. She had never expected Bosco to be murdered by Red John and it had shook her to her very core. If the serial killer had been more than happy to kill Bosco, who was next? Jane? Was she just attempting to protect herself before the inevitable happened? It was one thing losing Bosco so brutally, but it would be another entirely to lose Jane.

Whatever way she looked at it, he'd been the love of her life. That was despite the fact that they had never had the chance to fully commit to one another.

Well, maybe things were different now. Both of them were single, unattached. She still found him very attractive, even despite the fears that he could have a relapse. Deep down, she realized she didn't actually mean what she had said; she was simply frustrated and wanted a resolution to their murders. Lisbon took every crime she failed to close personally and the Red John debacle was the worst of them all. The fact that he kept springing up and taunting them made it almost unbearable. However, there had to be a reason she effectively accused Jane of being a murderer. She knew it meant she thought he was capable of doing so, even if he didn't actually do it. Then again, her childhood had quickly taught her that even the nicest, most amiable of men could just snap and do horrendous things.

The sound of a car horn outside of her apartment jolted her from her reverie. She peered behind the curtain and smiled briefly when she saw that the cab had arrived. Lisbon knew that Jane would have preferred to drive himself, but the shooting injury meant that it was completely out of the question. With a sigh, she grabbed her purse and left her house.

It didn't take long for Lisbon to realize that Jane, too, only had their reconciliation in mind. He seemed determined to make sure that everything was so perfect that they could just forget about their murky history. Lisbon soon found herself swayed by him and more than willing to accept that it was all water under the bridge. As the evening drew to a close, Lisbon found herself growing disappointed. She didn't want it to be over, not yet. It was a marked change in disposition compared to how she had felt about Jane merely hours ago, but she didn't care. Jane was a persuasive man and she was a red-blooded woman. There was only so much she could do to attempt to ignore his charms. Besides, being with him just felt so _right_, as it had when they had first met years ago.

"I've had a lovely time," Lisbon said as they reached her house. "Thank you."

Jane turned to leave, but Lisbon caught him by the wrist and firmly placed a kiss on his lips. It didn't take him long to realize what was going on and soon, he was kissing her back with fervor. She groaned as he deepened the kiss, his tongue swiping eagerly against her lips. When they eventually parted, Lisbon was breathing heavily, her skin was flushed and her pupils were dilated.

"I need you," he breathed down her ear and she shuddered slightly in response. "Now."

Lisbon dismissed the cab driver as quickly as she could, before returning to Jane's side. She smiled briefly as his arm circled around her waist while she fought to unlock the door. After an agonizing couple of minutes, they eventually fell inside, both still engrossed in one another. Lisbon sighed as Jane eagerly peppered kisses along her collarbone. Her fingers seemed to have a mind of their own as she attempted to undo the buttons of his vest. It was a mere matter of minutes before Jane grabbed her by the hand and dragged her upstairs to her master bedroom.

Neither of them noticed the note lying by the door, never mind the red smiley face at the bottom of it.

**TBC…**


	21. Chapter 21

**A/N: **Coming near to the end of posting this one. Considering how long it's been finished, it's taken me long enough.

Thank you to: SteeleSimz, Famous4it and jamhead for reviewing part twenty. And as always, to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twenty One**

Lisbon was the first to stir in the morning. That surprised her considerably; Jane was a light sleeper and in the past, she had rarely found him still sleeping beside her after sunrise. With a stifled yawn, she stretched and padded downstairs. She needed her coffee. It was only then when she noticed the envelope lying on the doormat. After starting up the coffee machine, she went to pick it up and scanned it quickly, frowning as she read.

How the _hell_ did Red John know where she lived?

She shuddered at the thought and stuffed the letter in the pocket of her dressing gown. As she sipped at her freshly brewed coffee, Lisbon considered the ramifications. Should she tell Jane? No, that would just have him running scared and probably make him act over-protectively. The threat in the note they'd found pinned to Bosco had been bad enough. Part of her wanted to get the hell out of her house, however fond she had grown of it, but she didn't want to hand that kind of power to Red John.

But it wasn't going to come to that, she decided firmly. They were going to catch the bastard and let him rot in jail while he waited for the inevitable. Really, death row was too good for Red John.

Lisbon jolted when she heard footsteps padding down the staircase. Her heart was going at ten to the dozen before she spotted Jane and calmed down immediately. He smiled warmly at her before heading towards the kettle and rummaging in her cupboards. She almost laughed when she saw him pull a face at the teabags. Still, it couldn't be that bad as Jane appeared more than willing to drink it though. Within minutes, he sat opposite her in silence, both of them taking their time over their drinks.

"What's wrong?" Jane suddenly blurted out and Lisbon frowned.

"Nothing, why?"

"There's a crease between your eyebrows. It's always there when you're stressed."

"My work is stressful, Patrick, of course…"

"Particularly stressed," he clarified and Lisbon remained silent. "Do you have to see the departmental shrink again today, or something?"

"Something like that," Lisbon lied, muttering as she did so. She was somewhat relieved that he hadn't worked out the real problem, for a change.

It wasn't long until they were ready to leave for work. After breakfast, Lisbon barely said another word to Jane. She didn't trust herself not to tell him. How exactly could she tell him that Red John, the man who had killed his wife and precious daughter, had been only a matter of feet away from them? That a serial killer had just dictated that he planned to destroy your life in ways that were barely imaginable? Either way, she had to remain vigilant. Red John wasn't going to take 'everything' away from her as he said he would. She wasn't going to let him win. Too many lives had already been lost and it was her duty to stop it.

And to protect Jane from more harm.

Jane had noticed her stony silence, however. He knew that it couldn't just be due to the fact that she had to talk to a shrink over a shooting that happened weeks ago. There was something more to it. Then again, with Lisbon, there almost always was. He knew that she hadn't grieved for Bosco properly, she had barely given herself a chance to. For the past week or so, she had just thrown herself at whatever task was laid in front of her, barely giving herself time to stop and think. Jane hoped that was the only problem, that her emotions were finally catching up with her. Silently, he resolved that he would spend the rest of the day trying to work out the conundrum, to check that was all it was. After all, it could be something far more complicated than that too.

Like her finding out that some evidence from the Red John case had been discovered.

Evidence that implicated him in Angela's and Charlotte's deaths.

Then again, if she had, why hadn't she already arrested him? Maybe she was just biding her time until she knew full well that he was guilty? Was her silence simply indication of her heart breaking as they traveled onwards?

A cheery ring tone sliced through the silence like a knife. Jane cursed under his breath and dug out his offending cell phone. He smiled briefly when he recognized the caller and answered. The telephone call was short and to the point and Jane was relieved. He didn't want to disturb Lisbon for too long. It looked like a change of plans; wheedling information out of Lisbon would have to wait until later. She glanced at him quizzically as he ended the call and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Who was it?" Lisbon eventually queried.

"Garza. He said he's come up against a tricky case and needs my expertise."

"You're attached to my unit," Lisbon muttered under her breath. "Why didn't he ask me first?"

"Maybe he thought you'd say no?"

"Not necessarily!" she answered back. "So, I take it you've agreed to it then?"

"Of course. It's not as if you have many open cases right now, is it?"

"You say that now," she whispered darkly but returned her full attention to the road instead.

Really, she didn't mind him going to work for Garza at all. Sometimes, it was good to have a break from people, especially when a plethora of conflicting emotions was involved. What really rankled her was the fact that Garza had asked Jane directly instead of checking with his superior first. It said a lot about the man; that he probably didn't respect Lisbon's authority because she was 'just' a woman.

She sighed. At least she got what she wanted this way. It meant there was no risk of her worrying him over that damn note now.

xxx

"Boss? We're up."

Lisbon nodded in response to Cho's call. As they headed towards the van, he updated her on the little he knew. An up-and-coming ballroom dancer had apparently been brutally murdered, the night before a big audition. Though she knew she shouldn't be pleased about the fact that somebody had lost their life in such a vicious manner, Lisbon couldn't help but be grateful for the distraction. At least it meant she would stop dwelling on Red John, thinking about what could happen to her in the near future. Instead, she had something else to focus on.

Without Jane, the short drive was quiet and lonely, especially so as Rigsby and Cho had opted to take a second car, just in case they should decide to split up later. Despite the music blaring from the radio, Lisbon found herself considering how Jane was doing with Garza. Except for the obvious sexism, Lisbon knew very little about the new senior agent. She didn't even know anything about his past history, which was rather weird. Whenever a new agent, especially in a higher position, was hired within the CBI, they had usually been prominent figures elsewhere. Head of busy departments in other cities and the like. However, Garza had appeared almost literally out of nowhere and stepped into Bosco's shoes barely before they had even had a chance to bury him. Of course, the swift appointment looked good to the general public - it reassured them that the police were still doing their job. Internally, people were naturally worried about whether or not hiring Garza had been _right _and whether or not a more suited candidate hadn**'**t had the opportunity to apply.

As soon as they reached the crime scene, Lisbon tried to put the thoughts out of her mind. She was here to do a job, not to worry about everything else that was going on. After a quick spat with the local Sheriff, she eventually managed to persuade him that yes, there was a reason they were there. They weren't just trying to steal his cases and they did have jurisdiction. Grudgingly, he allowed herself, Rigsby and Cho access to the body.

It was a sorry sight, but then again, most crime scenes were. The body had been draped artfully over a couch. Lisbon cringed when she saw the heeled shoe sticking out of the victim's abdomen. In all of her years as a law enforcement officer, she had seen all manner of objects used as makeshift weapons. However, a stiletto was new. She smirked to herself as she took in Adrik Solokov's other injuries. If the media got hold of that little detail, they would probably land up calling for restrictions on the sale of shoes. Women across the country would cause an uproar at the very concept. However, the cause of death hadn't been the shoe, but a gunshot wound to the back of the head. Obviously, the footwear had just been for show, maybe as symbolism for Adrik's chosen career path?

"I've got something, boss."

Lisbon straightened and headed over to see what Rigsby was holding up. Along with a Russian passport, he had an invitation to some sort of dance competition, due to be held that afternoon. With interest, she scanned the documents before nodding decisively.

"Right Rigsby. I want you and Cho to head over to this hotel, talk to the other dancers, see what you can find out. I'll go inform his wife."

"Yes, boss."

She watched as Rigsby disappeared from sight. After a second, she shook her head and dug out her cell phone. Van Pelt was probably already getting a little sick and tired of always being the one chasing up paper trails, but there wasn't much she could do about it. The girl was just a rookie and therefore, didn't have the expertise to deal with much more on her own. Given time and more experience working with the rest of the team, then maybe Lisbon would feel able to trust her out in the field. Until then, she had to make do with working on the computer and finding the clues that she didn't have time to look up herself.

"Van Pelt, I want you to find out everything you can about Adrik Solokov. Yes, Adrik," she stated before spelling out the name. "I have a feeling this has something to do with a messy love affair. It's entirely possible he married somebody to try and get a green card."

She rang off and glanced once more at Adrik's butchered body. The scratch marks up his arm and the shoe certainly suggested a bitter fight with a spurned lover. Lisbon could only hope that it really was as simple as that, for Adrik's family and friends, if nothing else.

xxx

Lisbon rested her head on her desk. It was a position that she took to whenever she was feeling particularly stressed. She had hoped that the case would help to focus her mind, distract her from everything else that was going on in her life. Instead, it had made things all the worse. Visiting the deceased's widow had been a nightmare. The woman had been completely distraught and insisted upon crying on Lisbon's shoulder for several hours. When she had eventually managed to untangle herself from Mrs. Solokov's grasp, she had felt utterly drained and was none the wiser for any motives of Adrik's death. Time had slipped by painfully slowly, but still, by the time she had left the Solokov house it had been already past seven p.m. and she had had to head straight home.

All she had discovered was that ballroom dancers were far more ruthless than she had ever imagined. It was strange; they always seemed to be the epitome of grace and elegance. The fact that it was apparently such a cutthroat business just seemed to contradict that.

First thing in the morning, Cho and Rigsby had updated her on what they'd been up to at the hotel. They had plenty to go on and she instructed them to chase up the leads. She had a busy day planned herself, what with having to testify in court and several meetings with Minelli and other people. Thankfully, her boys jumped at the chance to take control of the investigation, just as she suspected they would. It was a good experience for them, not having her checking up on their progress every five minutes and she trusted them entirely.

However, as the day marched onwards, she began to wish she could swap positions with them. Minelli had given her an earful over the fact that she had let Jane go off with Garza without clearing it with him. The court case felt like a disaster from beginning to end and they were lucky to scrape a conviction out of it. By the time she had gotten back into work, for yet more painfully boring meetings, she was sick and tired of the bureaucracy involved with her job. It was days like this that made her wish she wasn't a senior agent. Then, she could be out on the streets, actually trying to solve crimes rather than being tied up with things that seemed so utterly pointless.

Eventually, she sat up and glanced at her watch. It was seven p.m. already and the bullpen was deserted. Van Pelt had been last to leave, briefly bidding Lisbon farewell before placing an updated report on her desk. Then, she realized she hadn't seen, nor heard from Jane since yesterday morning. Lisbon wondered how he was doing on Garza's case and why he hadn't even bothered to call. However, from the dark recesses of her mind, she briefly remembered that in a week's time, it would have been Charlotte's birthday. Perhaps he had just needed to escape for a little while, to go remember his daughter in solitude? Maybe he would remember to call her and say he had taken an unexpected vacation in a couple of days' time? Jane had never been one for following the rulebook, so there was no reason why he would follow the right channels in order to take time off from work.

She fingered her cell phone and wondered briefly if she should bother calling him. Quickly, she decided not to bother. This wasn't the first time he'd taken leave without asking and it wouldn't be the last. Every time in the past, before his breakdown, he always refused to answer when he took a vacation. Lisbon couldn't see any reason why he would act any differently now. Especially so, even. Jane often looked as though the weight of the world was on his back and that he was hiding things he simply couldn't talk about. She hoped that one day, he would be able to discuss his problems with her. Instead, Lisbon decided, that if he needed her, he would hopefully just come to her. She hoped that despite all the arguments they had shared of late, that he knew she was still there for him, that she still cared deeply about him. It was just tough, readjusting to having him in her life.

And the loss of Bosco on top of all that…

Her cell phone startled her from her reverie and almost instantaneously she grabbed it. Lisbon hoped that it would be Jane, wondering why the hell she hadn't gone home yet, stating that he was waiting patiently for her. It was completely out of the question telling him that she was avoiding going back there, that she barely felt safe in her own home now. Jane just didn't need to know, not with the fact that he was having to live through the second of Charlotte's birthdays without her, the first one while sane.

'_I have him. Wait for further instruction if you wish to ever see him alive again.'_

Lisbon frowned. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Of course, it was a death threat about somebody and that meant she had to investigate. Just as she was about to make a few calls to try and decipher the puzzle, her cell phone buzzed cheerily beside her. Tentatively, Lisbon picked it up and realized that she had received another message. After pressing a few buttons, a picture filled the screen.

It was Jane, in a bloodied heap, with today's newspaper resting on his lap.

Above his head was an all too familiar smiley face.

**TBC…**


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N: **This chapter is a little shorter than average...

Thank you to SteeleSimz, xxxBekaForEvaxxx and Famous4it for reviewing part 21. Also to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twenty Two**

Her shoe-clad feet slapped against the cold, hard concrete.

She counted each footstep. One, two, three. Breathe and repeat. One, two, three. With each and every one she was getting that little bit closer to her target. That little bit closer to Patrick Jane. The noise echoed down the narrow street. It also echoed in her mind, though she was the only one who was painfully aware of that.

She was running as fast as she possibly could. All she knew, all she was aware of at that precise moment was that she had to get there in time. She just had to. If she didn't, then she knew that she would never forgive herself.

If she didn't, then Jane would die and it would all be her fault.

The blood would be on her hands.

She suddenly became aware of the stabbing pain in her side. A stitch. It was the result of having a heavy meal and having a run almost immediately afterwards. Not that she'd eaten all that much of it; she'd only done so because the rest of the team had insisted that she needed to keep her strengths up. Had she known she'd be exercising, then she wouldn't have bothered. Would have opted for something with a higher energy content and less heavy in her stomach.

Teresa Lisbon had initially planned to spend her evening cocooned in paperwork. Catching up on some neglected form-filling and important reports.

It was funny how a single text message and one telephone call could completely change the course of the evening. How something so simple, so innocuous could make the whole world seem like a different, darker place. Like Red John was real, an actual person, rather than somebody who struck those close to them out of sight, invisibly. Only appearing and reappearing every so often just to remind them - the law enforcement professionals - just how powerful he actually was. This was the second time he had directly threatened the lives of those employed by the CBI.

She had the emotional scars to prove it. Briefly, she shook her head. Now was not the time to be thinking of that.

But it was the picture that had really shaken her. Specifically, the way Jane's limp body was slumped in an unceremonious heap. The dead expression in his eyes. The congealed wounds. The purpling bruises from multiple beatings. He was still alive, though only just. There was a dated newspaper resting in his lap, confirming that the picture had been taken the same day at least. He was blindfolded, cuffed, bruised and battered. And above his head was Red John's calling card. That macabre face, leering down. It was the stuff of nightmares; especially for any of the cops who had gotten a little too close to the serial killer.

Lisbon knew that all too well.

She had already lost Bosco to him. Nearly lost Jane as a consequence, too. It was entirely possible that she could lose him again.

Now.

If she didn't hurry up.

She'd already wasted enough time dithering when she had first received the damn message. Normally, she would have been able to keep a clear head and focus on the task in hand. She had had plenty of training in how to deal with kidnappings in the past, but because Jane was the victim, it had prevented her from behaving impartially. In hindsight, that had been fortuitous. If she had reacted immediately, then Jane would already been dead because she wouldn't have followed Red John's instructions to the letter.

But still, the longer they left it, the worse his wounds would get.

The less likely it would be that he'd survive.

Briefly, she doubled over as the pain overwhelmed her. She regretted the Spaghetti Bolognese that Cho had practically force-fed her while they waited impatiently for more news. Regretted eating anything at all. Besides, she felt about ready to be sick, to completely empty her stomach on the side of the street.

This was only holding her up.

After a few grateful gasps of air, she continued pounding the streets as if her life depended on it. Hers didn't, but Jane's _did_. Though, at that moment in time, she wasn't sure that there was much of a difference. For such a long while now, it seemed their lives were inexplicably linked. Like they could only live for as long as the other one did.

When Jane had been hospitalized, she hadn't known what to do with herself. Dating Bosco had been a complete and utter disaster. Ultimately, she quietly reminded herself, it probably lead to his death.

Anxiety continued to nag away at her. It had been for the past three hours and was only growing more intense as time slipped by.

Earlier, when she had been waiting for her team to arrive at the CBI headquarters, it had been almost unbearable. She had nearly worn a hole in the floorboards from her incessant pacing. It didn't get any better when they had come. Instead, they had remained in mute silence, each one of them as anguished as the next. United in their grief and worry for the missing member of the team. Though, of course, none more so than her.

Cho had tried his utmost to keep spirits up. He had been the one to remember that they all needed to eat. He had also been responsible for keeping the coffee flowing, for making sure that they stayed hydrated and as focused as best as they could. There was a reason he was her second in command; because she knew she could always rely on him in times of trouble.

When she had answered her telephone earlier, to hear a rasping voice growl instructions at her, she had been shaking like a leaf. Red John had correctly predicted that they were tracing the call. As she spoke, Cho worked the technology frenetically.

Though she wouldn't have thought it possible then, she knew she felt even worse now.

She had followed the instructions almost to the letter; she knew how Red John worked. There was only the slightest of chances that she could get Jane out of this mess alive, even if she'd done exactly what he said. The instructions were vague enough anyway. He didn't demand money, nor free passage to a country of his choice. He didn't even request that she remained unarmed. Just that she turned up at the specified location within an hour on foot and came without backup.

Lisbon was doing just that. Though, Cho and Rigsby were going to follow in a car an hour later, or sooner, if she indicated that she needed it on her hidden microphone.

She glanced at her watch. Five minutes to go.

xxx

"You're late."

'Only by a minute,' she thought, but said nothing. Instead, she merely kept her gun trained on the figure standing in front of her. Stared at him, with the distaste evident in her every reaction.

As far as she was concerned, Red John had dressed himself in typically clichéd super-villain style. All she wanted to do was rip off the mask, identify the bastard and remind him that he was actually human too.

That he was flawed.

Made mistakes.

That really, she was not intending to leave without arresting him.

"Where is he?" she eventually muttered and Red John pointed at a door on the right.

He knew that she would refuse to go first, would refuse to turn her back on him, to tear her eyes away from him for even half a second. It was obvious that she suspected that the moment she did so, she would die. That he'd slaughter her as he had so many other women. Like he had Angela and Charlotte.

That he would make use of the tiniest of distractions, when she wasn't entirely focused on the task in hand.

Instead, he merely shrugged his shoulders slightly and lead the way. She was surprised by that and wondered why he gave up so easily, instead of trying to make sure she was completely under his power. But maybe that was his point? Trying to make her feel as though the situation was under her control, when really, it wasn't.

The breath in her throat hitched slightly when her eyes caught sight of Jane. In reality, it wasn't as bad as she expected, but that didn't stop it from hurting. Jane was her friend, her lover and on top of that, she was his boss. She was responsible for his safety and judging by his current state, that was something she'd failed completely at. Briefly, she wondered if she'd feel the same way if it were some nameless stranger sitting in a boneless heap in front of her. Probably, she quickly decided. She had always felt responsible for the general well-being of other people; that was something which had been ingrained into her since her youth.

Lisbon watched carefully as Red John untied the blindfold and Jane's bounds. She scrutinized Jane as he tested his wrists gingerly, circling them over and over. As he tried to get his unfocused eyes to work properly. All the while, she kept half an eye on Red John. Bringing up three boisterous boys in her teens and having spent years managing her own team meant she was rather adept at multitasking.

"Jane?"

She spoke softly, but he didn't even seem to acknowledge that she was even there. His breathing remained smooth and even, as if he wasn't even aware that he was sporting several injuries. None of them looked life-threatening, but they were probably still painful nevertheless.

"Patrick," she tried again, patiently. "Patrick, it's Teresa. I've come to get you out of here."

Red John smirked to himself but Lisbon ignored him. She needed to get Jane to respond. To work out why the hell he wouldn't listen to her, wouldn't even look at her properly.

"What the hell have you…" she started before considering his state properly. It didn**'**t take her long to come to a conclusion. "He's hypnotized."

Red John clapped slowly, the sarcasm dripping off his every action.

"Very good, Agent Lisbon. I'm impressed. I can see why he likes you."

"Enough with the sarcasm. I should-"

"Put down the gun, Teresa."

"No."

Swiftly, Red John closed the short distance between himself and Jane. A knife appeared, seemingly from out of nowhere. Somewhat predictably, he pressed it to Jane's neck. Jane was unresponsive. As far as he was concerned, Red John could simply have been giving him a comforting hug, not threatening to kill him in order to make Lisbon listen.

Lisbon knew that Red John was trying exactly the same ploy as Minelli would if he found out she had reconciled with Jane. Trying to use one another to get them to behave in the way that they saw fit. Jane would barely listened to Minelli's threats and it would have been a miracle she still had her job if the situation ever occured. If it did, maybe _he'd_ hypnotize Minelli in order to pacify him? But Red John's ethics were the polar opposite of Minelli's. Their esteemed boss simply wanted to make sure that the CBI was the premier crime fighting agency in California whereas the serial killer standing in front of her would have preferred to undermine them.

And she knew he would quite happily kill Jane. She was probably more aware of that than anybody else alive.

"I said put the gun down."

When Lisbon hesitated, he placed a little more weight onto the blade. Even in the half-light of the moon, she could see the pearls of blood, slowly but surely rising to the surface of his skin.

"Okay, okay."

Slowly, she deliberately placed her weapon on the floor before straightening and holding her hands up in a non-threatening gesture. The modicum of control she had thought she had was slowly slipping through her fingers. Like sand through a hourglass. She shuddered slightly. Somehow, she had the feeling that one of them was running out of time. Lisbon offered a quick, silent prayer that it was Red John. She needed to get them all out of this alive, apprehend the criminal, who was clearly in control now and then sleep for a month. By then, she'd deserve that at the very least.

She breathed a sigh of relief as Red John pulled the knife away from Jane's neck and released him from his firm grip. At least Jane was no longer in instantaneous danger. However, just as soon as the knife was firmly put away, Red John leaned forwards and squeezed Jane's left shoulder. Lisbon's eye twitched a little. He couldn't be releasing Jane from his trance, could he?

No.

That would mean Red John was no longer in control.

That meant it was a trigger for something. But what?

Suddenly, almost as if he'd been awoken from a deep slumber, Jane scrambled across the floor and grabbed Lisbon's gun. For half a second, his gaze lingered on Red John. It looked like he was almost considering whether or not he should shoot him. To finally rid himself of his nemesis for once and for all. He was still not aware that Lisbon was even in the room.

Soon enough, he turned his attention to her.

Her heart was in her throat, beating out in time. As with her footsteps earlier, the thrumming of her pulse echoed. This time she couldn't count it, however. It was racing too fast for her to be able to distinguish between one beat and the next.

"Jane, what are you doing?"

He didn't respond. Instead, he impassively pointed the gun at her. Her own gun. Jane didn't even seem to realize that there was somebody standing in front of him. For all he seemed to know, or to care, he could simply have been pointing it at a paper target. Been getting ready to fire a round of shots to improve his accuracy.

"But… but you can't hypnotize somebody to do something against their will. It's… it's impossible. Jane says…"

"Jane says correctly. However, haven't you ever considered that maybe, just maybe, he wants to kill you?"

"No, he wouldn't… he loves…"

"He loves you? Always has? Cheated on his wife with you? That didn't stop him from killing her though, did it?"

"What do you mean?" Lisbon asked, despite the shrinking suspicion that had always been at the back of her mind.

"Your precious Patrick. He's been lying to you for _years_. He killed Angela. Charlotte, too."

"No."

"Do it, Patrick."

Before Lisbon even had time to react, he pulled the trigger.

Jane remained impassive as her blood pooled slowly on the dirty floor.

**TBC…**


	23. Chapter 23

**A/N: **Sorry for the delay in updating, I've been distracted setting up The Mentalist Big Bang 2011 over on LiveJournal. If you're interested in participating as an author/artist/beta/cheerleader, let me know and I'll send you some more details. We have also introduced the Mini Bang, which is all the fun but for less of the pressure.

Thank you to: BrokenDaisy, SteeleSimz and Famous4it for reviewing part 22. And as always, to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twenty Three**

"Lisbon?"

The transmitter remained painfully silent and Cho glanced nervously at Rigsby. He tried again, for a second and third time to no avail. When they had initially heard Red John's voice, they had all been surprised. The team hadn't expected him to show up, had assumed that it was just a trail of false hope, or possibly even a trap to lure them straight into. They had supported Lisbon and her decision to go along with it, though. She was their boss for a reason and if the belief that Red John might actually go along with the plan kept her spirits up, it was better than nothing. Besides, they had had photographic evidence of Jane tied up, with a newspaper in hand and the lead, however flimsy, did need investigating. Of course, the following gunshot had shocked them all, especially so as Red John had apparently instructed Jane, of all people, to fire the weapon. Now, they were just hoping for some kind of response, some confirmation that Lisbon was going to be okay.

"Right," Cho said, immediately taking charge. "We're going in."

"But Red John said…"

"If we do nothing, Lisbon _dies_," Cho snapped and Rigsby shrank back in shock. "It's bad enough that he's got Jane. Do you want to lose her as well?"

Rigsby remained mute and shook his head furiously. The last thing he wanted was to lose Lisbon; part of him was simply hoping the hidden microphone had broken or she had actively turned it off for one reason or another. But they were toying with a serial killer, somebody who was responsible for the deaths of ten or so women. And Bosco too. Not even a month had passed since the Senior Agent had lost his life and yet, Red John had been more than willing to strike at the heart of the CBI again.

Then again, he did also have some kind of vendetta against Jane. He had killed his wife and child a couple of years ago. Red John probably hated the fact that Jane had recovered from his breakdown and wanted to make his life a misery again. That was why he had gotten Lisbon embroiled.

Even Rigsby knew that Lisbon meant more to Jane than Angela ever did.

The journey was fraught with tension. Van Pelt, having only been working with the team for such a short period of time**, **seemed particularly nervous. Rigsby continually shot her sympathetic glances. This was probably the epitome of being thrown in at the deep end. He also knew that the redhead admired Lisbon greatly, probably because she had everything that Van Pelt wanted from life. And now, there was the risk that it could all be taken away from her, simply because Jane had been too stupid to keep his mouth shut on television a couple of years ago. If anything happened to her, Rigsby would be more than happy to tear Jane limb from limb. As far as he was concerned, the team weren't just his colleagues. They were his family.

Rigsby was also glad that Cho had taken the lead. Though he wasn't quite sure that he agreed with his decisions, it meant they had a goal to focus on. He just couldn't help but think that there was more than met the eye with regards to Lisbon's stony silence. Just because they had heard a gunshot, it didn't mean that she had been struck. It could have merely been a warning shot. Either that, or Jane was so hopeless with a weapon that he had missed entirely. Lisbon could be biding her time, waiting in the shadows before making her next move and they were about to barge in and potentially ruin all of her plans.

Then again, it was equally possible that Cho was right and she _was_ hurt.

Or worse.

It didn't take them long to reach the address in question. Rigsby and Van Pelt listened attentively to Cho's instructions and were ready to follow them to the letter. Both of them couldn't wait to get this over and done with. It had been a long evening, too long. The sooner they had some answers, the better. Living in some kind of limbo where they could potentially lose both their boss and their consultant was particularly hellish. Cho counted from three to one and within seconds, they had knocked down the door and were scouting around the empty building.

Eventually, it was Rigsby who found Lisbon first. When he saw her, lying stock still on the dusty floor, with a pool of blood growing steadily by her side, Rigsby was more than happy to admit he'd been wrong and that Cho was right. Swiftly, he moved aside and dialed 911. Lisbon required medical attention as soon as feasibly possible. Cho, realizing Rigsby's intentions, immediately rushed to her side to administer some basic first aid while they waited for the paramedics to arrive.

"Damn it, Lisbon," Cho growled irritably. "Why didn't you wear your vest?"

"Forgot," she mumbled quietly, with considerable effort. "He… Jane shot…"

"Shh, boss, we know. We'll get you to the hospital, okay? You're gonna be fine."

Lisbon fell unconscious as Cho spoke reassuringly to her. He was simply relieved that she was still alive. Carefully, he dealt with the wound, placing a compress over it in attempt to stem the flow of blood. Had it been marginally higher, she would already have been dead. Cho knew that the sooner they got her to a hospital and into surgery, the better. He just hoped that there wouldn't be any complications, that she would survive.

Whatever happened to Lisbon, they still had to find Jane and work out what the hell had happened.

At that moment in time, like Rigsby, he wanted to kill the bastard.

Letting him rot in jail would be adequate, though.

xxx

He had shot Lisbon.

Jane knew that.

Naturally, that meant that, deep down, he had _wanted_ to do it. Even under hypnosis, it wasn't physically possible for Red John, or anyone else for that matter, to control somebody, to make them do something against their wishes. If he really hadn't wanted to hurt - possibly even kill - Lisbon, then he simply wouldn't have done it.

He collapsed on a bench and raked his fingers through his hair. Why had he wanted to hurt Lisbon? What would cause him to want to try and end her life in such a violent manner? Jane thought that killing his wife and child accidentally had been horrifying enough. It had, after all, been the trigger for his breakdown. But why had he wanted to try and kill somebody else, someone whom he knew he loved?

It just didn't make sense.

They had been getting on a little better. Well, she had invited him home and they'd slept together once more. As far as he was concerned that signified the start of a beautiful relationship.

And he loved her, really, he did. Had done so for years. If he'd had the balls to, he would have left Angela to set up a home with Lisbon. Really, he _should_ have and then this whole sorry situation would never have occurred. Red John wouldn't have some kind of twisted vendetta, his daughter would still be alive and everything would be so easy.

Instead, he had to live out in a complicated web of lies.

One that was threatening to fall apart at any given moment.

Was it because he'd been scared that she would discover what he was, what he'd done? That that sheer terror had been enough for him to want to try and silence her for once and for all? Had Red John suggested that that would be the only way for him to stop the nagging guilt of not informing her that he was responsible for Angela and Charlotte's deaths and not the serial killer?

Or was there something more than that? When his family had died, he had felt… different. Excited almost. Like he was actually living life on the edge rather than drifting from one thing to the next. Everything had felt so real. He had never experienced anything else like that before, not until… well, until he'd shot Lisbon at Red John's instruction. The power, the ability to hold somebody's fate in his hands, there was nothing else like it. Nobody owned life, it was something that could be taken away at any given moment. But death? That was something somebody could control, if they really wanted to.

And Jane knew that he had enjoyed that.

Was he turning into a common cold-blooded murderer?

Was Red John trying to change him into some kind of apprentice?

If so, it was entirely possible that he was succeeding.

Jane wasn't quite sure how he came to be accompanying Red John, though. Everything he had experienced over the past couple of days was kind of hazy. The last thing he remembered, excepting the crack of the gun as the bullet went flying towards Lisbon, was walking into Garza's office with a cheery smile. After that, nothing?Did that mean Senior Agent Brent Garza was embroiled with Red John, too? Was the man a mole, set to bring down the CBI from the inside?

Realistically, Jane knew that somehow, he ought to inform somebody of his fears. However, Lisbon had been wearing a microphone. He'd noticed that as he'd fled the building. That meant it was entirely possible that the rest of her team and Minelli, even, had heard every word. They probably knew that he was responsible for Lisbon's injury, if not death. Therefore, they would just see him as the common murderer he truly was.

Jane stood.

He was in trouble.

Again.

That meant, if he wanted to remain a free man, he had to flee. Try and leave the country, or at the very least, the state. He was a wanted man, a criminal. The CBI wouldn't rest until he'd been brought to justice. Jane had threatened one of their own and everybody knew that cops came down harder on people who attacked the justice system. They always wanted to send out a 'message', make sure that people knew they weren't to be messed with.

Just as he went to move on, he spotted Cho running towards him. Briefly, Jane considered running, making one last bid for freedom.

What was the point? Regardless of whether she survived or not, Jane had lost Lisbon.

And she had been all he'd had left to live for.

It was time to just give up.

xxx

"I'm sorry, Mr. Lisbon, I don't know any more," Cho explained irritably down the phone and waited patiently as the man retorted angrily before continuing. "I'm not at the hospital. Agent Grace Van Pelt is there. Yes, you can have her number…"

Cho quickly reeled off Van Pelt's cell phone number to a distraught James Lisbon. Privately, he didn't think that Van Pelt would know any more than he did at this moment in time, but it seemed to appease Lisbon's younger brother. Though he didn't dare say, Cho found it a relief to end the call. It was one thing when you didn't know the family or victim and you could remain impartial and another entirely when you _did_. Telling James that his sister had been involved in a life-threatening shootout had probably been the worst part of the night, excepting maybe finding Lisbon in such a state. It was something he quietly hoped he never had to do again and half of him was relieved that Lisbon had survived. If she had died before they had even reached the scene, it would have been so much harder.

But she wasn't going to die, so there was no need to worry about that. Cho knew that in situations like this, it was best to remain optimistic, even if you didn't actively show it to the rest of the world. Positive thinking could work wonders on the soul, just so long as you remembered to be realistic about it too.

Now, he had more productive things to worry about, such as questioning the man who had just attempted to kill Lisbon. Jane had been dragged down to a holding cell while Cho prepared for the interrogation. He knew it was going to be a difficult one; Jane understood every trick in the book and had probably invented several more as well. The number of times he'd been present at questionings before meant he knew exactly how they operated and precisely how to evade certain things. And on top of that, he claimed to be psychic. Cho had always been somewhat skeptical of Jane's declarations, but he had appreciated the skills he'd brought to them in the past. Therefore, when he'd returned, Cho had been more than happy to welcome him back with open arms.

However, he now wished that he'd remained locked up for good. Then Bosco might not have been killed and Lisbon wouldn't be seriously wounded either.

By the time Jane was dragged up from the holding cell into the interrogation rooms, Minelli had arrived and stationed himself on the other side of the one-way mirror. The man was fuming. He had immediately inquired as to why he hadn't been informed of Jane's disappearance _before_ Lisbon went running into such a reckless situation. It was things like that that made him look incompetent and made his job ten times harder than it actually was. Cho felt for the man; he really wouldn't want to be in his shoes at that moment in time. Two of his senior agents had been caught in the crossfire because of Red John's vendetta against Jane. Lisbon, thus far, was simply marginally luckier than Bosco had been. However, the reason they never told him was simple: they had simply forgot. Been so distracted by the crisis in hand that taking the time out to call their superior just hadn't crossed any of their minds.

Still, he was there now, to watch Cho's interrogation of Jane. It was better late than never. Initially, Jane spoke only to confirm his identity before falling into a restive silence. Uncharacteristically, Cho didn't know exactly where to take the questioning. Normally, he felt at ease trying to wheedle a confession out of a perp. It was one of the parts of the job he enjoyed the most and he knew he was good at it. His stoicism unnerved many a criminal into giving up information far more quickly than they ordinarily would have done.

However, Jane wasn't an average criminal. He understood the human mind in ways many people could only dream of.

Cho watched him as he sat there, smiling serenely. How the hell could the bastard look so at peace with the world? He thought that Jane loved Lisbon. Some people said there was a fine line between love and hate, but Cho never really bought that. As far as he was concerned, if you loved somebody, you loved their flaws and all. You didn't suddenly wake up one morning and decide you wanted to kill them, or at least, attempt to.

And yet, Jane appeared to have done just that.

"I'm going to make this easy for you," Jane suddenly announced and Cho appeared impassive, though he was listening attentively. "Yes, I shot her. I was hypnotized, but that means nothing…"

"You can't make somebody do something they don't want to," Cho supplied, knowing that from working closely with Jane in the past.

"Yeah. Which means, deep down, I wanted to do it," Jane said. "So, what are you going to do, Agent Cho?"

**TBC…**


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N: **Penultimate chapter. I can't believe I've already started writing this year's Big Bang and I haven't even finished posting last year's yet. That is... overwhelmingly lax. I'm sorry.

Thank you to: BrokenDaisy, SteeleSimz, Kaslyna and Famous4it for reviewing part twenty three. And as always, to ch19777 for betaing.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twenty Four**

Van Pelt remained curled up in the plastic chair beside Lisbon's bed. She'd hoped, assumed even, that the woman wouldn't mind her company. However, it wasn't physically possible to ask as Lisbon still hadn't come around from the anesthetic. Several orderlies had attempted to shoo Van Pelt away, insisted that visiting hours were long over and she should go home, but the young agent was adamant she was staying. She had even flashed her badge several times and insisted she had to remain by Lisbon's side. Her life had already been threatened once today and Van Pelt, nor anyone else in the CBI, trusted hospital security to keep Lisbon safe.

She mumbled incoherently as she wriggled in the seat, trying desperately to get comfortable. For the most part, Van Pelt had enjoyed her first month with the CBI. Despite mostly being relied upon to do the paperwork nobody else wanted to do, Van Pelt knew that the job was testing her far more than her old position back home in Iowa. That was one of the best things about it; actually being pushed to the limit for a change. Then again, it hadn't been entirely perfect either. She missed her family terribly, especially Yolanda. Her cousin would have adored Jane. Yolanda always complained that she never had the chance to socialize with other bona fide psychics, so Van Pelt would have loved to introduce them. If Jane _hadn't_ been a complete and utter idiot and tried to kill Lisbon for reasons unknown, that was.

That was the other downside of the job thus far.

Barely a week after she'd started at the CBI, Samuel Bosco had been murdered. Everyone else had taken it like a blow to the gut. Though Van Pelt had genuinely felt for his family and friends, she simply hadn't known the man well enough to feel the deep grief that everyone around her had. And now, merely weeks, if that, later, Lisbon had been shot. Jane may have been the one who pulled the trigger, but Red John had been involved once more.

She'd heard it with her own ears.

The serial killer really had it in for the CBI. That was worrying; it meant that any one of them could be his next target. She knew that others suspected Red John purely had a vendetta against Jane, but she couldn't help but wonder if he had something against the institution as a whole. Something more than just the simple fact that they were a law enforcement agency trying to apprehend him, of course.

Van Pelt jolted with a start when Lisbon kicked out. She hadn't expected her boss to wake until morning and despite it disturbing her own slumber, was pleasantly surprised. After calling for a doctor, carefully, she edged forwards, watching Lisbon's every move. The medic soon joined them and reassured the younger woman that everything was proceeding naturally and Lisbon would soon be conscious. Agitatedly, Van Pelt split her time between watching the clock and Lisbon.

Why did time always seem to go so much slower in moments like this?

"Van Pelt?"

It was more a strangled gasp than a coherent word, but Van Pelt still broke out into a broad smile. As far as she was concerned, this was confirmation that yes, Lisbon was going to be okay and she could stop worrying. She would get the boss she had already grown to admire so much back soon. After helping Lisbon sit up and take a few sips of water, Van Pelt sat back down, still grinning. Lisbon merely scowled in response and listened to what the doctor had to say about her current condition. It was mostly good and theoretically, she would be fit to work within a month.

That didn't change how she felt at that moment in time though.

"I feel like shit," she moaned.

"You look it too," Van Pelt automatically responded, before cringing. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"No, I appreciate your honesty."

"Your brother, James is it?" she queried and Lisbon nodded. "Yeah, he's been calling every couple of hours."

"And?"

"He's worried. Trying to catch the next flight over."

"Tell him not to bother."

"I can't do that," Van Pelt answered quietly. She just couldn't tell a distraught sibling not to visit his injured sister, even if said sister was her boss.

"You can and will."

"But…"

"But nothing," Lisbon said firmly, trying to muster up every sense of authority she possessed. "He has a disabled son who needs him more. I'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" she asked and Lisbon nodded in response, relieved to have finally convinced Van Pelt to do as she said. "Okay, I'm going to call Cho and your brother and let them know."

"Thank you. I think… I'll go to sleep some more."

"Sounds like a plan. Night, boss."

Van Pelt withdrew quietly and Lisbon breathed a sigh of relief. She was pleased that Van Pelt was learning to stand her ground already, but would have preferred that it hadn't taken so much energy out of her. Quickly, she dismissed it as being a side-effect of the anesthetic and laid back down, with considerable discomfort.

She hated being sick and couldn't wait to feel better. Then, she might just be able to come to terms with what had happened to her and more importantly, who was responsible for landing her in hospital, yet again.

xxx

Jane sat at the table, drumming his fingers impatiently.

He was bored.

Before locking the door, Cho had been wise enough to ensure that he had taken absolutely anything that Jane could use to garner his freedom with. The man had learned well and knew that Jane simply couldn't be trusted when left to his own devices. Given the chance, he could probably escape jail using a muffin and a security guard's phobias. The very concept may have seemed completely implausible, but Cho probably thought 'implausible' was his middle name.

However, Cho was wasting his time.

As far as Patrick Jane was concerned, his life was over. There was no point in trying to escape, no reason to run and hide. It wasn't as if he had anything to live for any more.

Red John may have threatened Lisbon in those notes, but really it was _his_ life he'd destroyed.

And it was all his own fault.

If Angela hadn't annoyed him so much after Charlotte's birth, Jane wouldn't have been looking for love elsewhere. If he hadn't pushed his wife into the arms of other men. If he hadn't fallen in love with Lisbon, he wouldn't have grown to resent Angela quite as much as he did. If he hadn't started working for the CBI as an escape from the family drama, he wouldn't have found out about Red John. If he hadn't gone on that television show, drawn Red John's attention to himself…

If he hadn't completely lost it with Angela and inadvertently killed her and Charlotte…

Jane shook his head. There was no point in thinking about what could have been. It was just exhausting and a complete waste of time. It was physically impossible to change the past; all he could do was alter the future.

Which, of course, he'd tried to.

He'd spun a web of lies, pretended that Red John had been the one to kill them. Made every effort to recreate the crime scene as accurately as feasibly possible. Destroyed all the evidence, apart from the knife.

But how did Red John know that he'd been responsible for killing his family?

How did he realize that it had been Jane attempting to frame him and not some nameless, faceless person who had a vendetta against them?

Jane thought back to the sorry night the whole mess started. He could clearly picture the fire, right down to the latex gloves slowly melting over the twigs. The spitting and whistling as the water doused the fire and it fizzled out to nothingness.

The shadowy figure in the background watching his every move.

That was how Red John knew.

He was there, observing him.

The serial killer had probably resolved to kill his family after watching the television report. Only Jane himself somehow managed to get there first. Then, instead of killing his family, Red John willingly allowed the web of lies to spin out of control and intervened when he saw fit to.

Despite the fact that Lisbon had completely written it off as part of his breakdown, Jane wouldn't be surprised if Red John had been watching him at the hospital after the accident too. In fact, one of his moles had probably caused the car crash. Like Garza had caused them to be reunited very recently.

It was disconcerting. For years, he'd thought that he'd been playing Red John, had gotten away with murder. Instead, it had simply fallen down around his ears. This was probably even more satisfying for the serial killer than his original plan ever had been. He had managed to exact his revenge on Jane, realizing that there was indeed a fate worse than death. And not only that, but he had made the CBI look like incompetent fools by killing one of their agents, seriously wounding another and he'd done goodness knew what to Garza too.

It was just a mess.

And in the end, it had simply been preventing the inevitable.

The truth always managed to come out, sooner or later. They had quickly figured out that he was the one to fire the gun used to shoot Lisbon. He had willingly confessed to it too, not having the energy to prolong it any further. It was only a matter of time before they found the crucial evidence that led to him being charged for Angela and Charlotte's deaths too.

Then what?

He'd probably be convicted and placed on death row. He had perverted the course of justice, attempted to murder a police officer and killed two innocent people. It didn't matter that it had all been accidental, that it was just a series of coincidences that he'd never meant any of it to happen.

It had. _That _was all the courts would care about.

Now, he was just waiting for Cho to come back down to the holding cells and formally charge him with the attempted murder of Teresa Lisbon. That would be the first domino to fall, proverbially speaking.

Part of him wished he'd just hurry up.

Jane had never been any good at the waiting game.

xxx

"It has to be here somewhere," Rigsby growled to himself.

During the interrogation, Jane had given them absolutely everything they needed. That included the precise location of the gun he'd used to shoot Lisbon.

Rigsby briefly wondered why the man was so willingly handing himself over on a plate.

Was it to cover up for somebody else? Had Jane been a mole in the CBI for Red John?At this moment in time, Rigsby thought that anything was theoretically possible. Jane had shot Lisbon in cold blood, at the instruction of a serial killer. Why would he have done that if the two of them weren't working together? It just didn't make sense. He knew that Cho had posed these questions to Jane the night before, but the blond had vehemently denied it.

Cho seemed to have taken his word for it. Rigsby didn't. He knew that Jane was a master of manipulation and therefore, anything and everything he said could be doubted. As far as they knew, he could have been lying to them for years, all the while helping criminals get away with crimes. And to think that he'd _liked _the man. Rigsby had always thought of himself as a sound judge of character; his father had quickly taught him how to sort the good out from the unsavory characters.

The fact that he had been so woefully misguided unnerved him.

As it had happened once, it meant it could quite easily happen again. Then again, he was grateful that he wasn't in Lisbon's shoes. She had loved Patrick Jane entirely. Rigsby knew that; hell, the whole of the CBI did. And Jane had tried to kill her. So, not only was she recovering in hospital from a major injury, but she would have to deal with the ultimate betrayal.

It would take a long while for her to trust another man again. Rigsby knew that. He'd seen his Mom react in such a way after she found out his Dad was a scumbag biker.

Rigsby shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. Right now, Lisbon's state of mind wasn't his concern. He knew she was on the mend and that was the main thing. What he needed to do now was to find the crucial evidence that would identify Jane as the shooter. Just because he confessed, it didn't mean anything until they had cold, hard facts to back it up. The gun, with his fingerprints, would do just that.

Triumphantly, he dragged the firearm out of the hedge and quickly bagged it up, ready to send to forensics for analysis. Then, he took a second look. It was all too familiar; the Glock 9mm that Lisbon had always favored.

The bastard had shot Lisbon with her _own _gun.

Rigsby muttered something under his breath. Still, it was nearly over now. All he had to do was drive this to the labs and then hopefully, they would get back to them as soon as feasibly possible. Then, this would all be over and they might just be able to put the pieces back together again and move onwards from it.

Two days later, forensics called up Cho and announced their results to him. After receiving confirmation that they would send them directly to him as soon as possible, he thanked them and hung up.

It was just as everybody, Jane included, suspected.

His fingerprints were all over it.

xxx

"Boss," Cho said as he closed the door to Lisbon's hospital room.

"Hi, Cho."

Lisbon smiled briefly at her second-in-command before offering him a seat. Unsurprisingly, he declined and opted to stand at the foot of her bed, gazing at her. She was grateful that he had chosen to visit. Although she had only been in hospital for three days, she was already growing fed up with the monotony and aching to go home. At the end of the week, perhaps, the doctors had said. She just hoped they would remain true to their word, otherwise, she just might go mad with boredom.

"I thought you should know that Jane has been formally charged with your attempted murder."

"Good."

"That means, if he's convicted…"

"Okay," Lisbon said, not needing him to tell her exactly what fate lay in store for Jane following conviction.

"Okay?" Cho echoed, somewhat surprised.

"Yeah, okay. It's what he deserves."

Cho nodded in agreement, surprised at her defiant statements and quickly left her in peace. As she slid back down, Lisbon wondered if she really meant what she had said to Cho. Did she really want Patrick Jane doomed to life in jail?

She had loved him.

But he had tried to kill her.

What about Charlotte and Angela? Was Red John telling the truth? Had Jane actually been the one responsible for their untimely deaths as well?

If Jane was responsible, then Lisbon decided that he definitely deserved whatever the courts had in mind for him.

She would just have to investigate into it further.

When she was back on her feet, of course.

**TBC…**


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N: **So it's taken me 9 months to post a fic that was completed last December? That's got to be some kind of record for laziness, hasn't it?

Thank you to everyone who supported me whilst writing this (last year!), especially to ch19777, Miss Peg and lil smiles. Also to those who have stuck by me with my very lax posting.

Thanks also to: BrokenDaisy, Kaslyna and Famous4it for reviewing part twenty four.

x tromana

* * *

**Part Twenty Five**

Three months quickly passed and Lisbon was relieved to get back to work. A lot had changed at the CBI during that period of time. Minelli had quietly retired: losing Bosco, Garza and Lisbon's near-death experience had taken its toll on him. Madeleine Hightower had been drafted in as his replacement and thus far, had settled in nicely. Lisbon liked the woman and appreciated the support she had given her since returning from her extended leave thanks to the shooting. Though many agents were reluctant when it came to change, Hightower's decisions generally made sense. It felt like she was rebuilding the CBI from the ashes she had inherited.

While she was away, she had been forced to see a psychiatrist. Lisbon had immediately requested Sophie's help; the woman was the only shrink Lisbon had ever trusted. It had taken them a short while, but finally she was beginning to get things straight again. She had finally come to terms with the fact that Patrick Jane had been lying to her since day one. Well, sort of anyway. There were still times when she couldn't believe just how gullible she had been, that she had managed to believe that he _really_ loved her the way she loved him. When all the time he'd just wanted to…

She shook her head and tried to blink away the tears that were gathering in the corners of her eyes. This was ridiculous. Lisbon had discussed this time and time again with Sophie and still, she couldn't get him off her mind. At this rate, despite the fact that Jane was securely locked behind bars, he was going to continue ruining her life. It was bad enough that she knew, deep down, she would find it hard to trust another man again. Especially after what Jane had done to her.

Red John certainly hadn't lied about destroying her life, figuratively speaking anyway. Though, he probably hadn't been quite as successful as he'd anticipated. She still had her family, her life, her job. Lisbon knew that she had plenty to live for. The only difference was that she didn't know if she would ever truly be capable of loving somebody again. The idea just seemed too daunting.

But it was early days yet. Maybe she would feel different about it in a few years time?

Then there was the matter of Charlotte and Angela's deaths. They were still classified as a cold case and people were still convinced that Red John was responsible. However, Lisbon was growing more and more confident that Jane himself had been responsible. If she could just find the conclusive evidence to link him to the murders, then maybe she would be able to put the whole thing to bed. Then, it would be well and truly over.

She glanced down at the form she was filling in. It was to do with the Solokov case. While Lisbon had been indisposed, Cho had managed to close it. Apparently, it had been one of Adrik's many lovers who had killed him, because he refused to leave his wife for her. Lisbon smirked slightly. What was it that made spurned lovers decide they had to try and kill one another? She herself had nearly been a victim because of that. Well, sort of anyway. Her situation had been considerably more complicated than that.

Having finally caught up with some paperwork, she pushed herself to her feet and wandered through the bullpen to the kitchenette. As far as Lisbon was concerned, she had definitely earned her mid-morning coffee break. She winced a little as she did so; the old wound didn't hurt anywhere near as much as it did two months ago, but occasionally it caused her the odd problem. It seemed like it just wanted to remind her that it was still _there_. She smiled briefly as she glanced into the bullpen. Van Pelt was staring at her computer screen, alone, but offered Lisbon a bright smile when she caught her gaze. The youngest agent had doted upon her during her recovery and Lisbon hoped it would be the beginning of a lasting friendship. She would just have to be careful and make sure they maintained the boundaries of professionalism. Whatever they did together in their personal lives, whether that be yoga or having a few quiet drinks at a local bar, she was still Van Pelt's boss.

As she inhaled the rich aroma of coffee, Lisbon smiled briefly to herself. After a turbulent time, the whole team was coming back together again. She knew she could rely on Rigsby and Cho to do whatever she needed without her presence. That she could trust them to do almost anything and they wouldn't let her down. Unlike so many others who had done so in the past.

They were a constant she needed in her life. Lisbon had her team and that was the main thing. She didn't need anyone else.

xxx

It had taken far longer than she had liked for Lisbon to get a warrant to search Jane's apartment in Sacramento. She snorted derisively to herself; four months ago, she would have been more than willing to just walk in here and find whatever she needed without any qualms. Now, she insisted upon doing everything by following protocol to the letter. In a twisted way, Jane had taught her that. If you didn't do things by the book, you were only going to land up in trouble. His current predicament was evidence enough of that.

She held her breath as she unlocked the door and slid inside. Nothing had changed since she had last been in here, to pick Jane up after he'd been shot. The only difference was a thin layer of dust that now covered every surface. It was kind of sad, in a way. Lisbon leaned against the door and took a couple of deep breaths. She was glad that she had decided to come on her own; she didn't want anybody else, least of all the rest of her team, seeing her in such a state. They had seen her vulnerable side more than enough times of late. Her reaction to Jane's home had been inevitable though; she'd expected it. Being back here was like ripping open old wounds, reminding her of what she had had and what she'd lost. She had been so naïve back then, to think that Jane would ever consider leaving Angela for her. That he could still feel anything for her at all post-breakdown.

Eventually, she gathered together her wits and began the painstaking operation of searching through his belongings. After a good hour or so of searching in the lounge, she paused to catch her breath. She was going about this all wrong. If Lisbon wanted to find anything, then she would have to start thinking like Jane.

Soon, she drifted towards the master bedroom. The first thing she noticed was a picture of the two of them, together on his bedside table. Irritably, she threw the photo frame to the floor and the glass smashed reassuringly. A flicker of a smile briefly appeared on Lisbon's face. That felt surprisingly good. Then, she continued her search. It didn't take long for her eyes to linger on the set of drawers, nor for her to empty them one by one.

In the last drawer, she found the knife. It was already in a plastic bag, almost as if it were waiting to be picked up as evidence in a murder investigation.

With a determined nod, Lisbon placed it into an evidence bag before leaving the house without a second look. She was fairly certain that the reddish stains on the blade would be Angela's blood and that the handle would be covered with Jane's fingerprints.

If she was right, this would be the proof they needed that Jane, not Red John, had killed his family and tried to cover it up.

It was over a week before Lisbon got the results back. She quietly thanked the man who had informed her before placing the telephone receiver back down. Afterwards, she called Cho into her office. It didn't take him long to arrive and she smiled as he stood, as always, directly opposite her.

"Cho?"

"Yes, boss?"

"I need you to make a call. We're adding the murders of Angela Ruskin-Jane and Charlotte Anne Jane to Mr. Jane's charges."

"Where are you going?" he enquired as she pulled on her jacket.

"To tell him in person," she stated and he nodded gently. "It's about time."

xxx

Lisbon took a deep breath as she sat down in the plastic formed seat. It dug into her sides uncomfortably. For some reason, she felt overwhelmingly vulnerable. That was probably because she had had to surrender her gun to security before being granted access to the visitor's room. There wasn't anyone else in there just yet, but knowing she was merely yards away from criminals, several of whom she had personally sent to jail, was disconcerting.

And then there was the little fact that she was about to see Patrick Jane for the first time since he'd shot her.

In all honesty, Lisbon knew she had been putting this off. As far as she was concerned, she hadn't wanted to see him again before the trial. That was until she received the confirmation that he was responsible for his family's death.

He'd asked to see her. Probably so that he could apologize. Up until now, every single time, she had declined.

She knew she had to come here on her own terms.

And that was why she was here now. That, and she needed to formally charge him too.

But still, she couldn't wait for it to be over and done with. As far as Lisbon was concerned, this was going to be a short, sharp visit and then, she would never have to directly face the bastard again. She would attend his court cases, watch as justice was served, but that would be for her sake, not his. It would give her closure.

Hell, if he got the death sentence, which as things stood, was entirely possible, she would seriously consider watching him die.

Lisbon barely recognized the shackled man shuffling towards her. Jane hadn't been looking after himself and he was a far cry from the man who had swept her off her feet years ago. Though it saddened her for some inexplicable reason, she was also somewhat relieved. It made this whole situation just that little bit easier.

"Teresa," he said as soon as he sat down. "I'm glad you've come."

He went to grab her hands, but Lisbon pulled them back and placed them gently on her lap. Jane looked a little hurt. What was he expecting from her? To fall back into his arms willingly after everything that he'd done?

"We can start again. We can…"

"You fucking bastard," she snapped, interrupting him.

"Pardon?"

"You fucking tried to kill me. Do you really think there's any chance for us whatsoever?"

"I… you're right," Jane admitted. "But I had to try."

She snorted derisively. Lisbon just didn't want - or need - to hear it.

"And you lied to me," she continued angrily, the months of pent-up rage finally exploding. "For _years. _You killed your own family and pretended everything was normal. Is that how little respect you have for me?"

Jane remained silent, clearly not knowing how to respond. Lisbon was glad of it; she knew that if he'd tried to justify any of his actions, then it would just break her. It was bad enough that she had decided to try and face him at all without hearing any more of his lies.

"In addition to your pending charges, you're being formally accused of the murders of Angela Ruskin-Jane and Charlotte Anne Jane."

"So you've found the evidence then?" he enquired.

"Yes," she answered bluntly.

Once more, silence enveloped them. Lisbon knew that realistically, she should just leave but for some reason, she couldn't. She wasn't sure what she was waiting for, maybe an apology? Then again, it was Patrick fucking Jane. Since when did he ever admit to being sorry for any of his actions?

"Teresa, you should know that Brent Garza is…" Jane eventually spoke, knowing it was a last-ditch effort.

"Garza has gone missing. He went AWOL at the same time as your… kidnapping."

"So you know he was involved then?"

"Obviously."

Lisbon stood, not wanting to spend any longer in Jane's presence. It simply hurt too much.

"Goodbye, Patrick. Have a nice life."

"I'm sorry," he murmured, though even if she heard it, she didn't show it.

xxx

Barely thirty minutes later, Jane was alone in his cell. He lay on the mattress, shifting from side to side, attempting to get comfortable.

It wasn't as if he had anything better to do than attempting to sleep, anyway.

"Hello, Patrick," Red John said with a smirk, jolting Jane from his reverie. "It's been _such_ a long time…"

xxx

"Boss, we're up."

It was Rigsby who informed her. Lisbon nodded and quickly slid on her jacket. The sooner they got to the crime scene, the sooner it would be processed and they could get on with doing some real work. Rigsby lingered in her doorway for a second and Lisbon cocked her head quizzically at him.

"What is it, Rigsby?"

"It's… it's a Red John, boss."

"And?"

"I just thought…"

Lightly, she touched Rigsby's forearm and smiled reassuringly at him. His concern for her was sweet, but really, there was no need. Lisbon wasn't afraid of Red John; she just wanted to catch the bastard and bring him to justice. He'd screwed around with so many people, ruined so many lives.

And if she wasn't going to do it, who would?

The Red John case seemed like a poison arrow to so many agents now. Touch it and you died, or at least, your career would be over. Nobody wanted to run the risk of angering the serial killer, not since Bosco's death and Garza's disappearance. Not since he had managed to convince Patrick Jane to shoot a woman he'd so obviously loved.

That meant she still saw it as her responsibility. She needed to show him that she was stronger than before. That Red John had tried to break her and failed.

"Thank you, but I'm fine, Rigsby," she stated calmly. "Really."

It wasn't long until they reached the crime scene. The journey was silent; everybody was feeling tense. This was the first time Red John had struck since the Jane debacle and naturally, tensions were running high. The coroner greeted them quietly and it wasn't long until they were facing an all too familiar smiling red face.

Lisbon glanced down at the body.

It was ex-Senior Agent Brent Garza.

Well, that solved the mystery of what had happened to him, then. Lisbon couldn't feel sad for him. He had been a mole for Red John, worked closely with him. Had helped to set up the whole trap that nearly cost Lisbon her life. However, she maintained that nobody deserved to be murdered as brutally as he had been, not even a scumbag like Garza. It was simply the case that she didn't regret his passing as she would if he had been a nameless victim.

"Boss?"

She turned to face Van Pelt. In the rookie's hand was yet another piece of paper, folded over. With some trepidation, Lisbon took it off her and quickly scanned through the words. Eventually, she muttered something indistinct and despite it being evidence, Lisbon automatically scrunched it up.

_Dear agent Lisbon,_

_It's you versus me now._

_Are you ready?_

end


End file.
